House of the Setting Sun 5: Watcher looking at?
by BattleKitten
Summary: Buffy prepares for Faith's return while the first Watcher Selection camp begins. Faith doesn't get any better at making decisions. Complete.
1. Teaser

Episode 5

**Watcher Looking At?. (1/2)**

Disclaimer: All of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel belong to Joss Whedon.

Pairings: Buffy/Faith, Willow/Kennedy, Andrew/other

Teaser.

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_Tuesday._

Buffy shoo-ed Xander and Andrew off of the couch so she could straighten the cushions, but as soon as her back was turned to plump the ones in the arm chair, they both sat back down to watch the television again.

Arm chair as neat as it was going to get, she stepped back to survey her work.

"Guys! You could at least pretend to help." Whined Buffy. "And get that demon off the furniture!" She yelled as she spied Goorzah curled up next to Andrew sucking on a previously plumped cushion.

Indignantly Andrew pulled her onto his lap. "You have to stop calling her a demon, it's not nice."

"Andrew, she is a demon." Buffy chastised the young man impatiently and went back to arranging the ornaments on the mantel piece.

"So. You'd think it was rude if I called you 'Person' all the time, woudn't you?" Andrew argued petualantly.

"Fine. Whatever. Please could you not let Goorzah the Demon on the furniture after I spent all morning vacuuming it."

Xander scratched Goorzah behind the ears. "Aww, I don't think Buffy the Person likes you very much." Goorzah bared her teeth at him and hiccuped.

"Xander will you not encourage him, please."

The front door opened, solving the argument as the baby demon leapt from the sofa to meet Kennedy and Willow.

Kennedy scooped her up in her arms for a big cuddle, whispering nonsense to her. The demon baby chattered back in equal nonsense. Willow watched the two of them for a second, smiling indulgently, before moving into the room further and flopping down in one of the arm chairs.

"Willow!"

The red-head looked up alarmed. "What is it Buffy?"

The blonde Slayer was looking beyond her best friend, at the chair. Willow looked behind her as well but it didn't give any clues to Buffy's distress.

"You killed her fluffy cushions." Xander explained without looking up.

"Oh." Willow sank back again. "I'll give them CPR when my feet can hold me again, promise." She indicated all the shopping bags at her feet. "I think we've got everything you asked for. If we haven't, tough. I'm not setting foot back in Cleveland for a very long time. It was evil, and I know what I'm talking about."

Xander looked up, interested for the first time. "Did you get that thing I had on order?"

Willow nodded. "Yep, it's in the back of the truck along with the rest of the shopping bags."

"I'll go get them and put them away." Buffy started for the front door, but Xander was up already and half way through it.

"I've got it Buff, you carry on moving ornaments around. I think we're going to need all the feng shui we can get in this house." He disappeared out the front.

Kennedy took his spot on the couch next to Andrew, and Goorzah spread herself comfortably between the two. With her head nestled in the brunette Slayer's lap and her feet in Andrew's.

Buffy sighed heavily.

Willow gave her a sypathetic look and asked. "What time is she arriving?"

Buffy picked up the bags of shopping at Willow's feet and started for the kitchen. "Giles should be meeting her any minute and the flight's this afternoon. They should be here this evening." She started putting food away in cupboards. "Ooh, don't forget to do behind Goorzah's box, that's always really messy."

Willow's face scrunched. "Did I miss the first part of that conversation?"

"Not you." Buffy replied like it was obvious.

Willow felt a prod on her toe and looked down. Two Pixies looked up at her. One of them held a dustpan and the other held a brush. "Oh hi Elowen, and this is your brother isn't it? I'm afraid I don't know your name yet."

"It's Kitto." Buffy told her. "Or at least, something that sounds very like that."

The two little people gave them a wave and carried on sweeping the kitchen floor, wielding the utensils perfectly even though they were made for people ten times bigger than them.

"You're using our neighbours as slaves now?" Willow asked dryly, putting some stuff away in the fridge. "That's a little bit oldy-worldy, don'tcha think?"

"It's what they do apparently. Offer service for gifts. Elowen likes milk. I'm not sure what Kitto likes yet, I just hope I can understand him when he tells me. This was the way it was always done with the old Council, well until they turned into jerks, that is."

"I see. Sooooooo…" Willow dragged the word out until Buffy turned from wiping down the spotless table, and then lowered her voice to a whisper. "…how are they dealing with the iminent Watcher invasion?"

Buffy glanced down to where Kitto was holding Goorzah's box above his head, while his sister swept the floor beneath it clean. "Don't think they've cottoned on to it yet."

Willow flipped on the kettle and grabbed two mugs from the drainer, catching Buffy's look, her eyes rolled. "S'okay Buff, I'll wash them up again when I'm done."

Buffy gave a strained smile. "I'm going crazy, aren't I?"

"Maybe just a little. You just have to relax. It's not like Faith is the kind of girl who's going to notice if there's a wrinkle in the table cloth or the spare toilet rolls aren't in a perfect pyramid."

The blonde pouted. "I just want it to be nice." Distracted by her watch, she announced perkily: "Ooh, bedroom windows, I'm coming to get ya." Before grabbing a bucket of soapy water from the back door and starting up the kitchen stairs.

* * *

Faith looked at her watch and sighed. She'd been standing by this damn gate for nearly thirty minutes waiting for the guard. That was after the two hours of checks and searches and questions. What did they think she was going to smuggle out of prison? She was free for crying out loud, so open the damn door. 

Ten minutes later a guard did amble up. She signed a couple more sheets of paper and finally the little door in the big gate was open and she could see the outside for the first time in, well it hadn't been that long, but it was the symbolism of the thing that counted surely.

The outside wasn't that spectacular. It was a car park filled with lots of economy cars, and two men standing in the sunshine, waiting for her. Giles and Wesley. The English welcoming committee; her two Watcher's. Waiting to take her back into the ample bosom of the big, happy, Slayer family like she didn't even have a choice.

She knew there a was a plane ticket waiting for her in Giles' pocket, so she could fly with him back to the middle of Monsterville, Ohio tonight. It was part of her parole conditions, she knew that. She had to spend at least three months at this school thing Giles was pretending to run before being re-evaluated by her parole officer.

A part of her knew she was lucky. Scratch that, all of her knew she was lucky to be getting out, but to be allowed to leave the state was a bonus. The downside being the specification that she only had one other location to choose.

If she decided to play by the rules, that was. She smiled a little, dimples just showing themselves.

Giles and Wesley hadn't noticed the open door yet.

"Are you out of here or not? 'Cause if it's not; I'm gonna shut the door again." The guard asked impatiently.

"Chill, man, I'm going." She slipped out of the door and sidled quickly along the high wall of the prison. Once she was certain the guard couldn't see her any more she ducked down behind the row of parked car and crawled on hands and knees to the far end of the lot.

Continuing over a small grass verge littered with cigerette ends and trash she came to a chain-link fence which seperated the prison from the busy highway outside. If she was going to get spotted, now would be it.

She looked back to find the two Watchers and saw them by the door talking to the guard who had released her.

She threw her small rucksack of posessions over the fence and followed it quickly. Once on the other side she snatched up her bag and ran like hell.


	2. Act 1

Act One

Buffy dipped down to soak the brush she was holding into the bucket of water and straightened back up. In her other hand she held a bottle of washing up detergent and now she squeezed it, making a long arc of yellow-y green slimy soap that glimmered in the cool afternoon sun. It looked like demon… Well, best not to go there really.

When the soap hit the railing of the balcony she brought up the dripping brush and scrubbed at it, making frothy bubbles as she rid the old wood of years of ingrained dirt.

The balcony ran along three sides of the big house, and Buffy had finished one whole side and most of the back. She was working on the portion outside of the room she'd gotten ready for Faith now. The big ball of fire was low in the sky this late in the day and it made the spotless window behind her blinding with its rays. The same rays made Buffy squint at her work to avoid them.

Finishing another section she stood back to admire it, one hand raised above her eyes to shield them, and noticed Xander coming out of the soon-to-be training barn.

She watched with a little frown as he carefully locked it tight and put the key in his pocket before walking into the house. He'd been doing that all week. His secretive behaviour making her naturally suspicious. She'd come up with a vague notion that he was using the dark, empty space to do something with hops and barley and whatever element created the achey head. She'd nearly mentioned it to Willow, but had a feeling that the red-head wouldn't find the idea as amusing as she did.

Picking up the bucket, she moved along a few feet, and taking a step back, squirted some more of the washing up liquid onto the railing. She was getting pretty good at directing it exactly where she wanted. Maybe it could be the new weapon in the fight against evil. Squirting demons in the eye with detergent. That would make them clean up their acts. She could just imagine Giles' reaction if he came home to find all the Slayers lined up outside with squeezey bottles of bubbles.

Although, she looked at her watch, he should be home in about four hours and that wasn't enough time to get to the store and back, and finish the balcony. So that fun would have to wait for another day.

Four hours was not a long time. With a slightly panicked expression, she renewed her vigour with the brush.

It had been nearly two weeks since Giles had phoned with the news of Faith's appeal and in that time Buffy's emotions had ranged from terrified, to exuberant, to fretful, to what her Mom would probably call nesting. And from there it was easy to head back to terrified.

She had no idea how Faith was feeling about her. About getting out. About anything. She knew that Giles had visted her at least once to discuss her coming to live with them, but after that the Watcher had left the States to head to London and so Buffy hadn't had a chance to question him properly.

Moving on to the next portion of balcony rail, Buffy realised with relief that she only had one more and then she could turn the corner and begin the North section, which was shorter and the last one. After that she had to go find a broom so she could do the flooring. After that she could go grab a quick shower and then start the little something she had planned for dinner. Faith was bound to be starving when she arrived.

She worried for a second that Xander was even now making a mess in her immaculate kitchen, but she still had Elowen and Kitto down there covering that base. The big lunch of milk and cookies she'd given them, had made them more than happy to offer more of their services.

Happy with the long West railing Buffy turned to the next part and sighed with relief to be out of the glare of the sun. As she scrubbed away at the wood, she saw Xander exit the kitchen with a sandwich and head back to the big barn. He unlocked it again and went inside, shutting the door behind him.

She damped down her peaked curiosity by checking the time, and with dismay, noticed it was still ticking by.

Buffy knew anyone else would say not to worry about it. Faith wouldn't care about the balcony railing anyway. That's why everyone else had cleared out and left her to her new breed of madness. But it did matter. Faith's first impression of the place was going to stay with her forever and it had to be perfect. Buffy needed every help she could get in getting Faith to stay with her, with them.

She'd agonised for two weeks (well to be honest a lot longer than that) about how this evening would go, every time she ran it through her mind she did something different and tried to imagine Faith's reaction to it. Figuring that way she could find the exactly right one and that would be the one she'd use tonight. Problem was, different scenarios were still popping up with the frequency of her heart beating so how was she supposed to just pick one! How could she practice making everything just right, when another script would suddenly materialise and she'd fluff her lines.

Willow said keep it simple. Don't think what might happen, just let it happen and react from there. Yeah, good idea in theory, but with her and Faith when things were just allowed to plot they're own course, they usually veered off a cliff at high speed.

Xander had suggested having a party to welcome her back, because Faith liked parties and it would stop any awkwardness between anyone. Buffy suspected he was thinking of himself and Faith there. She'd given the idea serious thought, but it didn't seem right to have a party only a couple of weeks after Kate had died. There was still a somber feeling around the house caused by their first fatality at Sunset Camp.

Buffy, acting as head of the camp in Giles absence had made it possible for all the new Slayers, Kate's friends, to go home for a week or two after the funeral. This was the first time the seriousness of their calling had been shown to them and Buffy wanted them to spend time with their families while they regrouped. Miranda and Cici had jumped at the chance, but Alison had declined and was still in the girl's dormitory barn with Vi and Rona. While Buffy silently wished that Alison had taken the time off to mourn the brave Irish girl, she was also hoping that Miranda and Cici weren't too scared to come back.

Another veto to the party idea was the bunch of Watcher wannabe's arriving from England early the next morning. With Giles not back until that evening none of the necessary preparations had been made for them. Not that Buffy had time to think about that; she had her own preparations to fret other.

So for tonight, Buffy was keeping it unfussy. She was going to cook. Andrew had offered, but Buffy had declined. She wanted to do this herself, but she had let Andrew sort out her ingredients and show her what to do and he'd promised to be on hand incase it all went fluie on her.

Then they could do whatever Faith wanted to do. Which might be sleep after the flight. Or maybe she'd want to go to Barnies for a few drinks. Or…or maybe they could talk, privately, just the two of them, and Buffy could find out where she stood.

Gulping, she stopped the brush, and looked down at the wooden railing without seeing it. Was she ready to know where she stood? Suddenly the not knowing was looking more attractive. What if Buffy didn't stand anywhere as far as Faith was concerned? It was a possibilty. She'd heard nothing from the dark Slayer since the visit. Giles had, had no message to pass on as far as she knew. What if Faith came back and blew her off.

Buffy started scouring the wood again so hard that little chunks began to fall away. Faith was going to come back and not even acknowledge her, she just knew it. The brunette would walk in and give the place a cursery once over and go look for something to eat, or drink or … Buffy would be standing right there smiling like an idiot and Faith wouldn't even notice, unless she stripped off and covered herself in barbeque sauce.

She contemplated that for a moment, before chastising herself. "I can't, everyone will be there."

Which brought on a fresh wave of alarm. All of her friends were going to be standing around watching, knowing all the hard work she'd put in, all the tears and tantrums of the last few months, and they'd see all her hopes get dashed right out in the open. She knew she could trust them not to laugh and snigger when it happened, because they loved her. No, more than the totally mind-blowing embarrassment would be the damage it could do to the already cautious acceptance that Willow, Xander and Dawn felt for the brunette.

Maybe she could not be here when Faith arrived. Buffy could go out for a while and come back after the other Slayer had said her hello's and eaten. That way she wouldn't look like the eager puppy she felt like. She could stroll in and say a casual "Hi.", and flop in front of the T.V, like she did most nights.

"Nothing new and exciting about this night, no siree, just watching the tube with everyone, oh Faith, I didn't see you there. Flight okay?"

She tried out this different approach, knowing already that her friend's would not be best pleased if she left them to entertain the once murderous Slayer.

That party idea was looking better and better. Buffy looked down at the brush covered in lather that was creeping up over her hand to her wrist, specks of white foam going as far as her elbow.

"What am I doing?" She asked herself. "Faith isn't going to care about this stuff, and she doesn't care about fancy meals and heart to hearts either. I've been doing this all wrong. Willow and Xander are right. Faith likes things simple and partyish."

She dropped the brush in the bucket of water and jumped over the side of the balcony. Landing neatly on the grass ten feet below.

"Xander." She called, going over to the training barn. "We need to organise a party, like now!"

Xander heard Buffy's shout from right outside the door and looked around in a panic. It was too soon, he wasn't ready. Another half an hour and he'd be good to go.

He ran to hold the door shut before his friend could enter.

Buffy pulled on the door handle to the large barn and frowned when it didn't swing open easily like she expected.

Was it locked? Just what was Xander doing in there? An image of dirty magazines and the one-eyed man caught in an uncompromising position made her grin evily and she yanked the door open to break the lock.

Xander's feet braced against the floor didn't stop the sudden yank from pulling him forwards and through the opening door.

With a little yelp he tumbled onto the grass at Buffy's feet.

Buffy stepped back in surprise as Xander fell to the ground.

"What are you doing?"

Xander pushed himself to his knees. "I was trying to stop you from opening the door." He responded clearly miffed at his failure.

"Okay Xan, time to fess up. What are you hiding in here?" She tried to step around the kneeling man and look inside, but he threw himself into her legs and knocked her off balance onto her ass. "Did you just do that?" She asked with a half laugh from the grass, feeling her funny bone being tickled more than the annoyed one that had it's hand up.

"Sorry, sorry." He said, slamming the barn door closed and scrambling to his feet. "I can't let you go in there."

Buffy jumped to her own feet a lot more gracefully than Xander had. "And if I want to go in there, you're going to stop me?" She asked, halfway between amusement and irritation at getting her butt bruised, tonight of all nights.

Xander winced a little as he registered the implications of knocking a Slayer on her ass. "Sorry," he added again for good measure, "but, yeah I'm going to try."

Now she really wanted to know what he was hiding, maybe more than anything she'd ever wanted to know, in that moment at least, but she had more important things to do.

"Fine. I didn't want to go in there anyway." She lied. "I just needed to speak to you."

Xander relaxed. "What about?" He turned quickly and locked the door.

She raised an un-noticed eyebrow. "We need to organise a party for tonight."

"I thought that wasn't what you wanted." It wasn't lost on Buffy when Xander casually walked a few yards away, causing her to turn from the barn to speak to him.

"It wasn't, but now it is. Can you help me?"

Xander shrugged. "Sure. It's a bit short notice for a hootenanny, but we can probably manage a shindig."

His choice of words caused her brow to wrinkle slightly in confusion, but she batted it aside. "Great. Let's get started."

* * *

Faith had been running along the side of I-5 for a while, not having a clue if she was heading in the right direction or not, before she stopped and tried to flag down a ride. The whole time her heart was beating crazily at the thought of Giles and Wesley coming by and catching her.

She'd been lucky enough to catch the eye of a trucker before that happened and now she was listening to him make polite conversation.

"Uh, thanks for picking me." She said again, when he shut up for a minute.

"No problem." The guy tipped up his baseball cap a little as he changed lanes, then tapped it back down against the blinding rays of the low sun. "As long as you aren't trying to escape, because then it might be a problem."

Faith went cold despite the heat in the cab. Did he know who she was? Was he Watchers Council? Some friend of Angel's? Could they move that fast? Had they thought she might try to run and already acted against it? Was the game up that quickly?

The trucker took her gaping for confusion, and he was right on the money, although not for the reasons he thought. "From the prison." He clarified. "It happens sometimes. Someone'll pick up a pretty lady on this road, they're never seen again; and the truck gets found in Mexico a week later." He chuckled and fished around in his shirt pocket for a pack of cigerettes. "You want?" He offered the pack to Faith.

She took one. "If it happens so much, why'd ya pick me up?"

The driver was quiet while he mused that one over. "Good question." His eyes crinkled when he smiled. Leaning forward to pat the dash, he added. "Just don't hurt my girl, okay."

Faith laughed, lighting her cigerette. "I didn't escape, I was let out fair and square." She waited for his reaction, it was a nod. "And I really don't think I could drive this beast, so relax." She took her own advice, letting her head loll against the back of the seat as she took gentle puffs on her smoke and watched the scenery flash by outside.

"You didn't have people to meet you?" He jerked his thumb in the direction they'd come from. "That's rough."

"Yeah I did, its just…" Faith hesitated.

"Are they not nice people?" He asked kindly.

"No, you won't find much nicer. That's sorta the problem…they're too nice, if you know what I mean." She sighed.

"No not really. I don't think you can get too nice."

Okay so maybe she just didn't think she deserved nice, not yet anyway. She knew she didn't want to carry on this conversation, that was for sure.

"So what time will we hit Vegas?" She asked to change the subject.

Las Vegas hadn't really been in her plans, but as time went by she realised she didn't really have a plan to begin with, so it wasn't like changing it was going to be a problem. Anyhow, Las Vegas was a kick-ass town so where better to start her new life.

The guy looked at her like she was a couple of sheets short of a full load. "Well if you were planning on coming back with me to meet the family then I'd say…about eight pm next Friday."

"What…" …the hell was this guy talking about?

"I'm heading up to Calgary. We're going in the opposite direction to sin city." He explained, tipping the cap back again to look at her earnestly.

"But you said…" She started, accusations on the tip of her tongue.

He cut her off. "That I had just come from there."

"Oh." That did kinda sound familiar now he said it again.

"You want me to drop you in Reno. You 'll be able to catch a ride back the other way from there." He offered.

She thought about taking him up on his offer to go and meet the fam., but realised she couldn't go to Canada, even if he had been serious. She didn't have a passport and she couldn't exactly apply for one right now.

As they passed a sign saying eighty km. to Reno, she drew in the last lungeful of smoke and stubbed the cigerette out. See, this was why planning wasn't any good. Things never went as you wanted them too.

* * *

"We need to go to the store." Buffy pulled a light jacket on. The evenings were getting colder now there were into fall. "Do you think they'll have what we need?"

Xander grabbed the truck keys and held the door open for her. "I don't know. Do we have time to go to Cleveland?"

"Giles' flight lands in two hours, which gives us three hours, but if we go into the city, we'll lose two, so, no." She turned a sorrowful frown his way and he grinned lightly at her.

"What we can't find, we'll make – I'm a dab hand at paper doileys. We can make pretty shapes from newspaper and string them across the ceiling…" He waved his arms a little to illistrate.

Her frown went from sorrowful to 'Are you crazy' and he shut his mouth and followed her to the truck.

"Hey where are you two off too?" Kennedy and Rona were walking up the front drive towards them. They'd disappeared earlier in the day to avoid Buffy's manic cleaning.

Buffy answered Kennedy's question. "To the shop. We're having a party."

"For Faith?"

Buffy nodded.

"Cool. Can we help?"

"Where's the 'we'?" Buffy heard Rona whisper.

"Everyone has to help. We only have a few hours and this has to be perfect. Understand?"

Rona looked mutinous for a second and Buffy was about to tell her: No help, no invite, when she sighed. "What do you want us to do?"

Buffy hesitated, she didn't know. She hadn't thrown a party in a long time. "Um, make snacks, no best to leave that to Andrew. I don't know, think of some way to decorate in case we can't get anything."

"What with? Cut up newspaper?" Rona asked sarcastically. Xander gave the new Slayer a look of adoration.

Did they think this situation was funny all of them? Faith was going to be walking into this house in just a few hours and they were trying to turn it into a circus. "Okay, everyone can leave the decorations to me. You two…just do something." Buffy got in the truck. "Xander, come on!"

* * *

"So what should we do?" Kennedy asked the black Slayer as together they walked into the spotless kitchen.

"Well for a start we should probably let Andrew know he's got to make party food for everyone."

Kennedy nodded in agreement and wondered what felt off about the house. When she realised, she laughed. "Andrew must be out with Goorzah, we'll tell him when he gets back."

"How do you know he's with her? He might have gone with Vi to pick up Dawn."

"Do you see a big bundle of fur in my arms?" Kennedy was used to being nearly knocked from her feet every time she came home. Andrew didn't have Slayer abilities and he always ended up on his ass. They reminded the small brunette of Scooby-Doo and Shaggy.

Rona sniffed a little. "From one Slayer to another, Kennedy, I've got to tell you that your relationship with that thing is just weird."

"You don't think she's sweet?" Kennedy couldn't understand how anyone wasn't immediately enraptured on first meeting the baby.

"I think she's a demon." Rona walked through to the living room. "Let's get some music ready."

So Goorzah was a demon, so what? Anya had been a demon, and Spike. Okay so neither of them had been short, hairy, over excited, enthusiastically friendly Taz look-alikes, but maybe that's why Kennedy had never liked them as much as she liked the demon baby. There were other reasons too, like guilt and responsibilty.

She walked through the door to the living room, Rona was already on her knees by the stereo, going through CD's.

"Goorzah lost her mother because of me. So it's up to me to care for her now."

Rona wasn't swayed. "She lost her mom, cause her mom was a demon, just like she is. You were just doing your job. You don't owe her anything and you're just making things harder for yourself when she tries to eat someone and you have to slay her for it."

Goorzah wasn't going to try and kill anyone. So she had the big teeth and the claws, but she never used them for more than rending and knawing every new bed-box Andrew provided. She was sweet, and funny and charming in her way, and she was an orphan that needed a family.

"She's not going to hurt anyone."

"Yeah? You wait until she gets older and instinct comes before cuddles. When you get your head ripped from your shoulders, make sure it rolls this way so I can tell it "I told you so." Rona was making two piles of CD's. One was the play list for the party. The other was to be thrown far, far away.

"That's not going to happen. Just because her mother was a killer, doesn't mean she will be. Not if we bring her up properly." Kennedy insisted, determined to do just that. Goorzah only wanted to please right now, and she couldn't imagine her gentle nature changing in the future.

The phone rang and Kennedy walked away from any reply Rona was about to give, to answer it.

"Hello. Sunset Camp." She said into the reciever.

#"Hello, can I speak with Ms Rosenberg please?"# Asked a woman..

"No, she's not here right now, but I can take a message if you have one." Kennedy offered.

#"Yes please. If you could just let her know that her order has arrived and we'll be delivering it this evening. If that isn't convenient, please have her call us before nine pm. to arrange a more suitable time. Thank you."#

"Wait, call who?" But the caller had already hung up. Kennedy replaced her end of the phone and wondered what the delivery might be. It was probably just more magick supplies. The witch was constantly getting little packages from all corners of the world. Well that wasn't inconvenient, they were going to be in anyway.

She went back to thinking over Rona's advice, about Goorzah and the stuff she'd said earlier about Willow, while she looked through the cabinets assessing what Xander had left in the way of cocktail combinations.

* * *

Willow sat in the quiet Cleveland library speed-reading the endless stack of files she'd been given.

She'd started off slowly, carefully checking every word, every section for any mention of the man she was looking for, but time was ticking on and she'd promised Buffy she'd be back in time to help her get ready for tonight. So she'd switched to scanning each page quickly hoping that his name would leap out at her.

So far it hadn't happened and she was running out of cardboard folders to go through.

How difficult could it be to find one man in a city of over four hundred thousand, anyway? Only half of them were male.

Maybe she couldn't find Oz's name anywhere among the real estate records and employment files because he simple wasn't living in this part of the world. Maybe last month he'd just happened to be in the area and then he'd left. Maybe he'd seen her and ran away. Maybe it hadn't been him at all.

After all, she hadn't seen him in nearly four years and had, had no contact with him in that time save an annual Christmas card, and people changed all the time. Oz changed once a month for example. Or at least he had until he'd found the correct mix of charms and chants to keep it at bay. Which meant it probably hadn't been Oz last month, because why would he be a Werewolf if he didn't have to be. And when Oz was being wolf guy he wasn't so much with the not wanting to eat people. Her wolf hero, as Kennedy had referred to him, hadn't looked at her like he wanted to tear her limb from limb, like Oz had more than once.

"Okay, so its not him." She resolutely began to gather the files into a neat stack ready to hand back. "Or if it is, I'm not going to find him this way."

Catching a look at the clock on the library wall, Willow started to move fast. Buffy was probably still freaking and cleaning the very mortar out of the bricks.

"Yay am I in for a fun evening." She commiserated with herself as she pushed through the big doors out onto the early evening street.

* * *

Dawn and Vi balanced on chairs at opposite ends of the living room.

"More to the left." Buffy told her sister.

"Any more to the left and I'm going to fall off the chair." Dawn pointed out her already precarious angle.

Buffy huffed with her hands on her hips, did she have to do everything? Walking to her sister's chair she grabbed either side of the seat and moved it over to where she wanted it.

Dawn dropped the streamer and grabbed hold of Buffy's shoulders, as she and the chair were shifted a foot to the left. "Are you crazy?" She cried.

"No, but you're going to drive me there." Buffy picked the end of the streamer off the floor and handed it back to her fuming sister. "Hold it up so I can see." She instructed.

Stepping back, she looked up, it still wasn't right. The other end needed some adjustment. "Vi, right a little more…" She was about to go move the red-head's chair for her, but she'd already jumped down and moved it herself. Showing more brains than Dawn. She looked up again. "Perfect." She decided. "Now the other one."

Dawn and Vi both groaned.

* * *

Xander sat at the kitchen table with Kennedy, helping to blow up balloons.

"Ooh he huffed and puffed…" Laughed the Slayer as she watched him go from red to purple with the effort.

The long balloon got away from him and made a rude noise as it flew around the kitchen, making Goorzah hiccup and jump and down, and Andrew shriek as it landed on the tray of mini pizzas he was preparing from scratch.

Xander gave Kennedy a look. "Go on then. You do better." He challenged.

She lifted a balloon to her lips, gave one hearty blow and deftly tied the end.

"Right, you can finish the balloons then." He got up and grabbed a beer from the fridge, stealing a bowl of peanuts on the way. Standing with his back to the sink, he munched on a few and washed them down with his bottle, before putting it on the side.

"Ussse ah saussar, eet'll drap!"

"Huh?" He looked down for the source of the voice. "Oh hey little …pixie person." He greeted. "What did he say?" He asked the rest of the kitchen.

"I think he told you to use a coaster." Giggled Willow coming through the back door. "And unless you want to face the wrath of Buffy then I suggest…ooh balloons! Why do we have balloons?"

"New plan Will," Xander toasted her entry with his bottle. "We're having a shindig, and speaking of…did you find our mysterious wolf friend, maybe you could invite him."

"No luck and I'm officially calling off the search. If he's here and he wants to find me… well he's the one with the superpowered nose." Willow gave her girlfriend a kiss between inflatings. "What can I do to help?"

"My hair." Buffy came into the kitchen when she heard her friend's voice.

To Xander, her voice sounded very tightly controlled. One slip-up and she'd detonate and the whole house would blow.

"What happened to the quiet night in the ultra-clean house you had planned?" Asked Willow.

"I remembered Faith was coming home tonight." Buffy grabbed Willow's hand and pulled her towards the back stairs.

The red-head allowed herself to be led. "But I thought that was what the obsessive cleanliness was all about? Why were you doing it then?"

Buffy stopped halfway up the stairs and turned around to face her best friend. "Willow! We don't have time to psycho-analyse my behavioural patterns. They're plane will have landed by now, Giles is hailing a cab as we speak, so come on." She dragged a helpless Willow the rest of the way up the stairs.

Xander shared glances with Kennedy and Andrew; both of them looked a little scared, although Kennedy was hiding it well. "Party!" He enthused mockingly and walked through to squirt silly string around the living room.

* * *

Rupert Giles debarked with the other passengers, looking around as he did so. He didn't see her and he hadn't expected too. He'd already had a quick look during the flight.

The ticket he'd left at the departure gate in LAX was obviously still sitting there, unless Faith had, had the ingenuity to trade the ticket for another destination. He certainly hoped not. That would make it impossible to find her if she didn't want to be found.

Angel and his colleagues were combing Los Angeles for the runaway Slayer, and it had been left to him to return to Cleveland and break the bad news to Buffy. He'd have much rather have stayed and helped with the search, but he couldn't break something like this to his Slayer over the phone, and besides he had the first batch of potential Watchers arriving in the morning.

Giles caught his suitcase before it could take another turn on the luggage carousel, and made his way through the crowds and out into the night. With a last hopeful look cast around, he sighed ruefully and waved down a cab.

* * *

Faith blew out a deep breath and stared out of the window at the passing countryside. There wasn't much to see in the desert besides rocks and sand though, so it did little to take her mind off of the sleeze next to her.

"So you realise this ride isn't for free right?" He repeated, with a smile. "I mean I'm doing you a favour, so the least you can do is return it."

She'd picked a real doozie this time, hadn't she? She should have waited longer, but it had been getting late; and no one liked to pick up strangers in the dark, not even defenseless little girls. And who knew suits were such bastards, she bet he was married with three kids or something equally as domesticated and confining

"And what might that be?" She asked him with a sweet smile of her own.

"I think you know, you seem like a woman of the world." He leered like that was the biggest turn on ever.

"I don't really have time, I really need to get to Vegas tonight if possible," She needed to lose herself in a crowd if she had the Watchers Council, Angel Investigations and Wolfram and Hart searching for her. She paused to think 'I have some really powerful friends', before trying to let him down gently, because it would suck to be left out here at night. "But thanks…I'm sure it would have been great."

"Hey, I appreciate you're a busy girl, me too, but we can do both." He started to pull down his pants zipper. "Come on, you know what to do with it."

She looked down at his crotch and sneered. Was this guy kidding her, what was she supposed to do with that? "Dude, zip yourself up before I make you eat it." She scoffed, shifting her body away from him so she could stare out at the starry sky.

The car was slowing down. Great, he was going to kick her out.

When the car fully stopped, she turned back to him. "Are you serious?"

"You don't blow me, you're not going anywhere. Simple as that." He told her, putting the car in park.

She shook her head at him. "Blow yourself, retard, I'd rather walk to the other side of the world than put any of you near my mouth." She opened the passenger door to get out.

He grabbed her arm. "I don't think you heard me. You don't give me what I want, you're not going _anywhere_."

Her eyes flashed as she stared at him and she smiled. "Well what about what I want?" She asked with a honey'd purr.

He tried to drag her closer across the seats. "I don't give a f…"

"Wrong answer." She tutted, and broke his arm.

* * *

"So you brought this dress especially for tonight?" Asked Willow, standing back for a better look.

"Yeah, do you think its alright?" Buffy asked nervously.

"Well I think you were right to go with the party idea. This might have been a little much for Barnies." The red-head admired the deep, summer-night blue dress that emphasised her friend's figure in a very complimentary way and wished she had a new dress to wear.

Buffy twirled to look in the mirror again and Willow tilted her head a little to get the full effect of the simple, cotton sundress. The better to give a full apraisal. Her eyes reached the bottom, where the flimsy material floated at mid-thigh. She gave a little eep of surprise when Xander cleared his throat right behind her.

"I'll have you know Barnies is a classy joint." He said, giving Buffy a long apraisal of his own. "Looking good, Buff."

Willow blushed and blustered to make up for it. "Xander, Buffy's changing! You can't come in!"

Xander gave her a look that plainly said 'Why should you ogle and not me.' Which shut her up and she moved to sit on the bed.

"It's okay, Will." Buffy smiled into the mirror at her two best friends. "Zip me up?" She looked over her shoulder at Xander.

He obliged.

"So I really look okay?" Buffy turned back to the mirror, swallowing loudly, Willow had never seen Buffy this nervous. Never even with Angel. "Maybe I should just put on some jeans or something." The blonde Slayer moved to her wardrobe again.

Xander stood in front of her before Willow was off the bed. "Buff, you look… magnificent." He smiled at her, slightly embarrassed at his choice of words. "But not in a wizard way, so just relax and try and enjoy the party."

Willow stood up. "He's right Buffy, you look beautiful. Faith won't be able to resist." She gave the Slayer a kiss on the cheek. "Now if you are done, I need to go get ready. And next time we throw a spontaneous surprise party, a little more preparation time might be nice."

She left the room as Xander said. "But then it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?" Giggling, Willow ran to take a shower.

* * *

Alison had been posted on window watch as the time wore on. Spotting head lights turning into the front track she shouted up the stairs.

"Someone's here."

Buffy came charging at full Slayer speed out of her bedroom and collided with Willow at the top of the stairs. She only just caught the red-head before she started to tumble down them.

"I'm not ready. They're early." She looked panicky at Willow and started to drag her down the front stairs.

"Buffy I need my other shoe." Willow called out futilely as she was towed downwards at speed.

"Where's Xander?" Asked Buffy, urgently. She needed her friends. One hand was still holding onto Willow's wrist.

Dawn came out of the kitchen with Vi, Rona and Andrew. Goorzah was walking along behind the young man, with one paw hooked into his rear pocket.

"He went to buy more booze. He said he'd be back in ten minutes."

"He's gone out!" Buffy's voice rose a pitch, and then another couple. "And that demon can go in one of the barns for the night!"

"She's one of the family." Stressed Andrew, bending to pick her up.

"Get it out now!" Buffy shouted, not wanting the first thing Faith saw to be the stinky demon child.

"It's okay, it's just Xander." Alison called from the window.

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief and softened slightly. Now she had her Human Bondage; the book obviously not... She tried to smile. "Please Andrew, just for tonight. Put her away somewhere."

Kennedy came in from the kitchen looking smart in tailored trousers and a silk shirt. "Put who somewhere?" From the way Andrew was clutching Goorzar it was a pretty redundant question.

Andrew relented when Buffy said please and was about to find a nice cozy place for the demon to wait out the party, but Goorzar wasn't as easily mollified.

Before Andrew could turn around, she leapt from his arms, straight at Buffy. "Bad Girl!" She growled in a low, gurgle-y rasp. Copying words that had been said to her many times before.

"Not the dress, not the dress, not the dress." Buffy shot backwards with her arms held out to block the demon.

"There's another car coming." Called out Alison.

Kennedy and Andrew had both dropped excitedly to their knees.

"Did you hear that?" The young man asked, grinning like an idiot.

"She just said her first words." Kennedy coo-ed. "Goorzie." She called her back for a group hug just before she could get her paws on Buffy's dress and get herself slain.

Xander came through the front door carrying three clinking carrier bags of bottles. "I think I got something for everyone." He assured. "Now we better assume party positions because there was another car pulling into the lane as…"

"Xander, Goorzah just said her first words…"

Andrew was interupted by Alison:

"It's a van. Two people are just getting out."

"Oh my God." Buffy put one hand to her mouth, certain she was about to be sick. Dawn gripped her other one reassuringly.

Vi started to chuck party poppers at everyone and Rona hit the lights.

"So the door opens and we all yell surprise, right?" Willow checked she was all caught up on the tradition.

"Well I was planning on just yelling in general." Xander confided from somewhere across the room. "Has anyone else thought how dangerous it could be to startle a Slayer in this way."

Buffy shushed him.

Everything was quiet except for the crunch of footsteps on the gravel outside.

Everyone tensed when they stopped right outside the door. Vi was so tense, that when someone knocked loudly, she let out half the surprise she was holding in and someone nudged her ribs to shut her up.

"Did Giles forget his key?" Dawn whispered from next to her sister.

"Uh, maybe. Alison, open the door, but don't get seen." Buffy called across in a rough whisper.

Alison did as she was told, making sure she was behind the door so she was out of sight.

When the door was fully open, two figures were silhouetted against the night sky.

Was this when they should shout 'surprise'? Buffy wanted to wait until one of them flicked the light switch and she hoped no one else would break rank.

"Um, hello. Is anyone here? We have a delivery for Ms Rosenberg." One of the figures called out hesitantly from the doorway.

The mounting tension broke and several people laughed. Rona put the lights back on and Kennedy and Willow went to the door together.

"Deal with it quick." Pleaded Buffy, nearly crushing her sister's hand.

"You phoned this afternoon." Said Kennedy. The guy nodded. "I forgot all about it with the party, sorry."

"That's okay." Willow walked out the door with one delivery guy, the other had gone back to the van. "So what are you delivering?" She couldn't remember ordering anything that week.

"Six free-ranging chickens." The delivery guy said proudly. "Some of our best these ones. Good layers. Or fatten them up and you've got yourself a nice Sunday lunch."

"Oh, oh, oh!" Willow squeaked excitedly. "I'd forgotten all about them; its been over a month." The rest of the house came out to see what was causing her geeker alert.

"Well demand is high, but you won't be sorry for the wait." He motioned to his companion. "Where do you want them?"

The other guy was carrying an armful of feathers.

"Uh, where are their cages?" Willow asked, suddenly not so sure in her joy.

The delivery driver looked non-plussed. "You are supposed to provide those. You would have been told when you paid for them."

Willow looked crest-fallen. "Yeah but you were supposed to call first, which you did and now we have no cages and the chickens are here."

Two chickens were now pecking the ground around the groups feet, while the guy went back for more.

"Willow!" Buffy sounded close to melt down.

Willow stood in the front yard, one shoe on and one shoe off, and looked around helplessly. "I have no luck with deliveries." She lamented to no one in particular.

Now there were four chickens pecking around.

Goorzah had come out with the crowd and suddenly she rushed excitedly into the chickens, sending them squawking away, except a slow one which she caught and hugged gently to her chest like a dolly.

"What is that?" Asked the delivery man in disgust.

"That happens to be my daughter, you insensitive pig." Cried Andrew, pretending to be distressed, or maybe he wasn't pretending all that much.

"Yeah." Kennedy backed him up as he leant down, disentangled Goorzah from the chicken, which he handed to a nearby Buffy, and disappeared inside with the baby demon.

Buffy held the chicken with boths hands away from her dress. "Will." She practically screamed, making the hen flap and squawk.

"Sign." Demanded the delivery guy, pushing a pen into the red-head's hand and a clipboard under her nose.

"There's another car coming." Called out Alison

"No, no, no." Buffy was almost crying. "This isn't happening." She thrust her chicken at Xander. "Please make them go away."

"The chickens or Faith and Giles?" He asked, truly not knowing, and finding it very difficult to keep the laughter in. Not everyone was even bothering to try.

"Both." She explained and looked down at the chickens, six of them now, all doing stupid chicken stuff. "I have chicken feathers all over my nice, clean stoop." She wailed.

"I thought we'd moved on from clean." Vi whispered to Rona.

"What's a stoop?" Rona whispered back.

The delivery van disappeared up the track and a mini bus pulled up in the yard.

"I guess the surprise is ruined, so do we just stand here?" Asked Dawn.

"No, when the door opens, we yell 'surprise'." Buffy insisted, and then added in a harsh whisper. "Willow, chickens, do something!"

"Hühner Verschwinden!" Willow waved her hand in a flicking motion.

All six chickens disappeard, but they left behind a multitude of feathers.

"Where'd they go?" Asked Kennedy, looking around like she expected to find them behind her.

"I have no idea." Willow admitted. "I just hope I can get them back again. Giles paid for them, but he doesn't know it yet."

The minibus door was thrown open and Buffy yelled out "Surprise" at the top of her lungs. Everyone joined in, but the timing was way off.

"Yeah, that was a bit." A tall lanky boy, with floppy blonde hair jumped down the steps of the small bus and looked them over. He came closer. "You nearly gave old Miley a heart attack." The boy leaned towards them slightly as if imparting some heavily guarded secret. "He's a bit of a pansy, y'know, but we're helping him grow out of it."

"Who the hell are you?" Buffy demanded, barely keeping her annoyance in check. The last thing she had time for a lost scout troop. Did they think this was some kind of summer camp? She cast a whithering glance at the group standing close to the bus.

"Damn Yanks." Someone muttered.

"I heard that." Kennedy called over.

"Damn Slayers." The voice muttered.

There were scattered chuckles and they didn't all come from around the bus. Nerves were at an all time high.

The boy in front of Buffy gave her a charming smile. "I'm sorry, allow me to introduce myself." He held out his hand. "My name is Reece Highbury. I'm looking for Mr Giles."

Buffy shook his hand firmly. It must have hurt, but he didn't wince. That didn't improve her mood. She released it. "Watchers Council kid's?" She checked.

"We are with the Council, yes. Is Mr Giles around?"

"Not yet, but he should be any minute." Xander came to stand in front of the new arrival and offered his hand. "Xander Harris."

Reece shook his hand and Xander winced. "Pleased to meet you." He said automatically. "Looks as though we caught you with your trousers down." He laughed, and next to Xander, Buffy scowled.

"Someone get a broom and sweep up the chicken feathers please." She begged her friends.

"No time." Alison shouted over, really getting caught up in the spirit of the thing now. "Another car at twelve 'o' clock."

Willow found herself checking her watch before she could stop herself.

"Everyone in the house now!" Buffy bellowed. "Lights off!"

All her friends ran into the house, grabbing party poppers as they did so and crouching behind furniture. Reece found himself swept along too, and was tugged down to knee level by Dawn.

"You can hide with me."

"It'll be a pleasure, darling." He drawled in a casual North London accent, causing her to giggle.

Outside the rest of the Watcher wannabe's were still huddling around the bus.

"I said everyone." Buffy screamed, and they all ran past her through the front door. She followed and slammed the door behind her.

The door opened again, and Vi shouted surprise, which scared the crap out of Alison who was just coming in. Buffy had left her outside.

"Sorry." Vi whispered when she got glared at.

Willow got the lights this time, hoping that none of the baby Watchers were secret axe murderers.

They heard a car door slam and shifted nervously, it had to be them this time didn't it?

"I think I'm going to be sick." Buffy whispered to the person on her right when she heard the key connect with the lock.

"I'm sorry to hear that." A cultured English female voice whispered back.

The door swung inwards and a hand groped for the light. When the switch was flicked everyone, in perfect unison, yelled "SURPRISE", including most of the new Watchers. It was accompanied by several loud bangs and coloured paper flying about.

Giles fell back off the doorstep and landed on his arse amid a pillows worth of white feathers. "Bloody ow." He muttered. As his shock wore off, he looked up at the welcoming committee.

He ignored all the complete strangers, his gaze going straight to Buffy as she stood there, hands wringing, a feather stuck to her pretty dress, looking over him for a glimpse of the other original Slayer. She had never looked so beautiful to him and he felt tears sting the backs of his eyes as his heart broke for her again.

"Where is she?" Buffy asked him softly; sounding so young and hopeful.

He took a deep breath and glanced quickly to Willow, Xander and Dawn before looking back at his Slayer. "Buffy, I'm afraid I have some bad news…"


	3. Act 2

_**Act Two **_

Giles' glasses lay discarded and smudged on the table top and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he considered his next words.

"I'm not sure what else to say; Angel and his friends have extensive resources now available to them and they are employing every one of them to find her and of course the Watcher's Council will do all we can." He accepted a glass of scotch from Xander. "If I had known you were planning all of this, I would have rung to inform you sooner, but Willow assured me you wanted it to be a normal night." He looked over at Buffy sitting to his right. "And I wanted to be here, in case…" He didn't finish.

She met his eyes briefly. "Its okay, you weren't to know." She went back to fiddling with a bendy drinks straw.

He sat and watched her until Willow broke the, well it would be silence if it wasn't for the pounding music in the next room and the background of chatter. English chatter mostly, for once. This lent a surreal back drop to his return which he could have done without tonight.

"So she just took off? Just like that?"

"So it would appear. Angel seemed to think she just needed a little space, some time to regroup, but then when she failed to show up at the hotel or the airport… Well I don't know what she's thinking. Maybe…" He didn't have a maybe though, or he did, but it wasn't one he wanted to share in front of Buffy. For instance, maybe Faith never had any intention of returning with him in the first place.

"But…but…" Willow looked to Buffy, but the blonde didn't look back, so she turned back to Giles. "…didn't she have to come here? I mean, what about her parole? Won't they be kinda pissed at her? Will they…?" She looked back down at her hands.

Giles sighed deeply, and now he retrieved his glasses from the wood and used the bottom of his un-tucked shirt to clean them. On the opposite side of the table he heard Xander shift in his chair. The wooden legs scraped across the polished stone jarringly. Already scuffed again, he realised, too many feet tramping in and out.

"We haven't told the authorities. At present there is no need for anyone else to be informed; and I believe we can find her before that need will arise." He took a swallow of his scotch, relishing the burning flavour and hoping there was more. He felt a great need to get mind bogglingly rat-arsed once this was over. Damn, he still had the lads Pryce had sent over to deal with yet. He hoped Xander had finished the other barn to be used as a dormitory. They couldn't very well put the boys in with the girls and expect trouble not to ensue.

"How long do we, does she, have?" Buffy looked as if she was trying to recreate a favoured balloon animal from the plastic straw.

"Well, her parole officer will be coming out here Monday to evaluate the, uh, school and to assess how well Faith is fitting in here. If she's not here…" To say it would look badly was a gross understatement, but he didn't think he had to point this out. "But I have fa… I see no reason why we can't find her in that time with Angel's law firm heading the search from L.A.; an…and we still have plenty of contacts through the Watcher's Council, and Faith is somewhat, uh, noticeable," he finished, a little uncomfortable with his choice of words. However he noticed it coaxed a tiny smile from his Slayer, which warmed him far more than the scotch.

"Okay," Xander's beer bottle scratched the table top as he pushed it away from him and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He pulled at it and then released it in favour of rubbing beneath his eye patch elastic irritably, just over his ear. Giles wondered if it caused him a lot of bother, and then chastised himself. The loss of an eye would render the itch of elastic un-noticeable, most probably. "So what? We find her and try to reason with her. Or we find her and drag her back here kicking and screaming. Either way we have a week to do it."

Giles nodded at the boy. Not a boy any more, he had to keep reminding himself of that. Willow and Buffy had always been more grown up than their ages should have allowed. It was Xander who had lagged behind, but not any more. They'd all be twenty-three in the coming year.

"And how exactly are we gonna accomplish this plan?" Xander asked, his voice tired and exasperated.

"As I said, with all our…"

The one-eyed man interrupted. "No, not the finding part. Not even the reasoning part, Buffy could do that, or maybe Angel, not me though." He started to chuckle nervously, before squashing it by swallowing. "I meant the dragging while she kicks and screams. She's a Slayer and she's Faith. It might not be as easy as we want it to be."

Giles looked sideways at Buffy who didn't react at all.

"Does this mean we're assuming Faith is…um," Willow steepled her fingers in front of her, and Giles could see the tips going white as she physically tried to compress her words into something manageable. "Do we think she's off the wagon?"

"Wagon?" Giles asked perplexed, his attention on the grinding of Buffy's teeth which was clearly audible above the din from the next room.

"The, uh, the, you know, sanity wagon." The red-head finished nervously.

Everyone flinched as a plastic straw was ripped into two halves.

"Sorry." Buffy muttered, trying to poke both ends back together.

Giles took them gently from her. "That's quite alright, Buffy, we have more straws."

She nodded and concentrated on digging her thumbnail into the already scarred surface of the table.

Giles turned his attention to Willow. "No, we have no reason to believe that, and jumping to those types of assumptions will do a lot more harm than good." He told her firmly.

The witch looked chastised, even though he hadn't meant to make her feel like that. He tried to clarify his thoughts a little.

"Angel may be right in that Faith just needs some space to adjust to life on the outside, so to speak. She could well turn up at his place at any time, in which case he will talk with her and see that she is put on a plane to Cleveland." He replaced his glasses before he continued, feeling defeated. "And if that hasn't happened within the week, then well, it will be out of our hands."

"Which means?" Buffy asked quietly, not looking at him.

"I don't know for sure." He admitted. "But if the shows on television have any truth in them, then there will be a warrant put out for her arrest, and if caught, she'll go back to prison."

"But surely, after all her hard work to get out she wouldn't risk that?" Willow asked, distressed. "I mean, would she?" She looked at Buffy, who gave a barely perceptible shrug.

"This is Faith we're talking about, right?" Said Xander. "Which means that she's probably out there right now, having the time of her life and not even thinking about the trouble she's causing."

"Xander, not now."

The carpenter turned his head the better to see Buffy, and answered her. "I don't mean it in a bad way…" Off of everyone's looks he amended his words. "I don't mean it in a she's gone crazy, cue big cackle-ly laugh way. I just mean she's been cooped up for months and she's probably out there just letting off a little steam. She'll be back with her tail between her legs when she runs out of, uh…steam. That's all."

Giles could see that Xander was trying to genuinely help, but he could also tell from Buffy's posture and expression that he wasn't. He looked around for another source of inspiration, but Buffy spoke first.

"Yeah, that's probably it. She's just out there partying somewhere, making the most of being young, free and single, I get that." She stood up.

"Buffy…" He began.

"No," she cut him off, "I mean it. It's okay. She has seven days until she's in any trouble, right? So why are we worrying yet and why are we all sitting in here sad and mopey? We have our own party to go too." She smiled at them, it made Xander flinch away.

Willow stood up too. "Buffy, you don't have to do this. You have every right to be upset and we're right here with you, or for you. Whatever you need." She promised.

Giles nodded along with Xander.

"Well what I need is for you to get your butts out there and enjoy this party I made you slave over. Come on you guys, I've been driving you crazy for ages about Fa…" her voice broke just a little. She swallowed. "…Faith. So this is my reward to you all."

"It's almost like you planned it." Joked Xander weakly.

Buffy's face darkened again, if only for a split second. "Well, like you said, it is Faith. You can never be sure if she's going to play by the rules. Better to prepare for every eventuality, as Mom would say."

"What about you?" Willow came over to stand by her best friend, taking a hold of one of her hands. "We can't leave you to be in here all sad and mopey by yourself while we have fun."

"Who said you're gonna?" Said Buffy with a grin, strained but real. "That was hard work ordering the rest of you around, I need a party too. Besides I need to check out these Watcher-wannabes, a wheat from chafe kind of deal, ya know."

Giles smiled and got to his feet also. "Are you sure, Buffy? You don't have to do that tonight if you don't want too. I believe Dawn has the hostessing covered and…"

"Giles, seriously, all of you: stop over reacting. On a scale of one to ten this is… I'm fine, trust me." With a flick of her hair, she pasted on a bright, beaming smile and pointed to it, whether as reassurance or instruction Giles wasn't sure, and opened the door to the living room. "Let's get this party started!"

Giles hesitated along with Xander and Willow only long enough to give each other raised eyebrows and unsure smiles before following their Slayer through the door.

* * *

Faith shifted in the seat, cracking her neck first one way and then the other. Driving sure as hell made the muscles go stiff. How long had she been doing it for now? Three, four hours?

Faith checked her new wristwatch. Huh, that couldn't be right. After shaking her wrist she checked it again. The hands hadn't moved. A loud honking made her realise where she was and she grabbed at the wheel with both hands and jerked the car back into her own lane.

She'd barely been driving an hour and half; how was that possible? She wondered how far she'd gotten; she hadn't passed a sign in a while. She wasn't even entirely sure which direction she was travelling in any more.

After getting rid of the creep; she'd been more concerned with how to get the car in gear and actually moving than anything else. It was harder than she remembered it being.

After ditching him, she'd changed her mind about heading to Vegas. She didn't have the kind of money you needed to enjoy a place like that. Besides, the guy would get picked up by someone sooner or later and Faith just knew that he was the kinda jerk that would try and rape a chick only to call the cops on her when she got the upper hand. That meant there could be an APB out on his car any time in the next twenty-four hours, and he knew where she'd been heading.

This was assuming he got picked up of course. "'Cause it would be so bad if a schmuck like him had to walk a few hundred kilometres to find water." She said grimly.

She'd done the guy a favour. She hadn't killed him. That was where the favours stopped. She wasn't going to feel bad for breaking his arm and shoving him out of his own car. Not after what he had wanted to do to her. He was lucky she'd opened the door for him first, instead of pushing him straight through the metal and glass. Okay so she may have broken a couple of toes too. He should have lain still like she told him. If he was gonna wriggle around like that while she was trying to get his pants off then it wasn't her fault. Asshole was lucky she hadn't broken the whole foot. S'not like they were important toes, it might hurt a bit but he could still walk, kind of.

She looked at the suit pants she'd stolen laying on the passenger seat. They were nice, well made and all. She could probably sell them, make a little extra. She bit gently at her lip while she considered it, then shook her head.

Balling the pants up in one hand she threw them out of the window. She didn't need nothing from him. Well except his wheels. Maybe if he managed to walk this far, he'd find them again. It was almost like she'd done him a good dead. This was way more than scuz like him deserved.

Or maybe not. Maybe he did deserve more. The back of her brain had been itching ever since she'd left him howling over nothing in the roadside dust. What if it was some innocent chick that picked him up and gave him a ride? What if he took out his frustration at Faith on her?

Faith wondered if Slayers could get ulcers.

She should have finished him off, or no, just broken both of his arms, so he couldn't do shit but just sit there. She should have broken his collar bones, that hurt like hell. Then he wouldn't have been able to do a thing.

Damn, what if she'd just saved her own neck to get someone else's cut?

Frowning, she warred with her own mind. She'd been sporadically going over and over this since she'd dumped his ass out. This time she nearly turned the car around. If it had only been an hour and a half then it was only the same again back. She could go back, knock him out and stick him in the trunk. Then what? Drive him into a town and leave him somewhere, at a hospital maybe, because Faith was damn sure that if she saw him again he would need a hospital. Even more than he already did.

She slowed the car with a series of kangaroo jumps and was set to turn it around and head back the other way, when her eyes caught a large sign looming out of the dusky kinda darkness.

She couldn't make it out from back here, so she pressed the accelerator and jumped forward a few times, cursing as she did so.

**WELCOME TO**

**TONOPAH**

**FOUNDED 1900**

**PLEASE ENJOY YOUR STAY**.

She'd never heard of it. She blinked at the sign again. There was another smaller sign just underneath, handwritten.

Silver Mines Diner – Real food for real people.

Real people? As apposed to puppets? Her tummy gave a growl. She was real people. She blinked again. Her anger at the sleaze back on the road was slinking away when faced with the idea of some food.

It had been a while since she'd eaten. She yawned and for the first time noticed she was tired too.

Turning in the seat she looked back over her shoulder, like she would be able to see the bastard walking up the road. When she didn't, she stretched, hearing tiny pops coming from all over her body. Feeling a little less stiff she drove forward again.

What were the chances of Angel or Giles or anyone looking for her in Tonopah, Nevada? Figuring not very high, she started looking out for the diner.

* * *

Xander looked up from his paper plate of munchies to catch Giles' eye across the room. The English man gave a slight nod in return. They both looked to Willow, whose eyes darted to Buffy before giving them a surreptitious thumbs up.

Xander gave her a little smile and circulated. They were enjoying the party as instructed, but that didn't stop the three of them from preparing for a complete Buffy melt-down and the fallout that would come with it.

Buffy's moods had been way with the swingy for months now, even back when they were still living in Sunnydale. Recently, with the whole Faith thing, the household were used to going from bright and shiny to duck and cover in the time it took to finish a sentence.

He watched her now over the rim of his drink as she laughed and chattered with Vi and the girl-Watcher. She seemed perfectly happy, but whenever the attention was away from her for a second her face would fall and her fists would clench and her eyes would go to the door. Every time she looked she was disappointed and it made Xander's chest hurt.

He had never been a fan of Faith coming back there to live. He had his reasons and that was good enough for him. Seeing Buffy like this though, just made him determined to find the dark Slayer and haul her to Boudenver by her hair if necessary. Of course it would get his butt kicked so hard he would never be able to sit down again, but right now, it seemed more than worth it.

Xander was working his way over to talk to Willow about locator spells when he saw Buffy take a break from her mingle to go stand alone by the dip table. They didn't usually call it a dip table, they usually called it a coffee table, tonight it had gone up in the world.

He changed his destination from Willow to the dip table. "I think the custom is to eat it once you've finished dipping." He told the blonde, grabbing a chip himself.

She looked from her overfilled Dorito to him. "Not hungry, just needed to get away from…"

"Everyone?" He asked gently.

"Just for a minute." She promised. "I'll come back out swinging in a second."

He gave a soft chuckle. "Please don't. Swinging watchers will cause breakages and I have enough to do what with Giles' list an' all."

She seemed mildly interested. "Giles gave you a list?"

"Uh huh. As long as your arm and still growing." He took another chip, dunked it in something that promised to cheese and bacon, and crunched it up. "There's a lot to do and it all needs doing at once."

"Well you shouldn't let him put it all on you. He should pay someone to do it." Buffy's tongue flicked out and licked up some dip from her Dorito.

"He does." She had confused face, so he carried on. "I get bed and board, plus a little something Giles likes to call a retainer, which for some reason makes me think about dentistry, but it doesn't stop me taking it."

Buffy looked shocked. "I didn't know you were actually getting paid. How come I'm not getting paid?"

He looked at her incredulously. "Buffy when was the last time you worked anywhere?"

She thought about it, taking more little licks of her chip. "The high school about six months ago, what's that got to do anything?"

"Well you haven't gotten a pay-check for six months and yet there is still food on your table and money in your pocket." His point sunk home and he grinned. "If anyone should have complaints about this, it should be me. All you do for your money is kill a few beasties and save the world now and again." He teased.

She smiled a little and finally ate the Dorito. It made Xander feel good to cheer her up.

"So how far behind are you with the fixing up?"

He groaned, the good slipping away a little as he contemplated it. Way, way too far. "A lot. The shower block isn't done which is going to mean the bathroom being extra busy this week."

Buffy groaned and he understood her pain, even as a guy. With the houseful they already had it was sometimes ten in the morning before he could get a shower. With the new arrivals it would be ridiculous. He made a mental note to set his alarm for earlier.

"Is their sleeping room set up? 'Cause if not, you know Giles is going to hit the roof." She was right. Giles had been nagging him about it for two weeks straight, even from England.

"It's done." He assured her.

She wasn't assured. "Are you sure? All we've seen you do is hide in the training barn all week. When did you get time to finish the boy's room?"

All the rest of the time when he hadn't been in the training barn. He knew Buffy had been preoccupied with her Faith stuff all week, but it stung a little that she hadn't even noticed he was never around. Didn't she miss him at meal times?

Xander shrugged. "I dunno, I found time."

There was a Dawn squeal from the other side of the room and they both looked over. The youngest Summers was talking to the self-professed leader of the young Watchers, Reece. Obviously, he'd said something mildly funny to get that kind of response.

"Dawn flirting should come with yellow police tape to keep the surrounding area safe for passers-by." Said Xander, wishing really that he could send her to bed with some warm milk, like they used to do when the adults were playing.

"No," Buffy argued with him. "Dawn flirting should just be banned, case closed."

"I don't think she'd like that idea all that much." Xander unhooked some tiny hairs that had become caught in his elastic strap and rubbed at the scalp beneath. "Unfortunately."

Buffy didn't seem too worried. "We'd be doing her a favour in the long run."

"What do you mean?" But he thought he knew where this was going.

She lifted one shoulder and let it fall again. "Relationships suck."

"Not all relationships suck. Sometimes it works out." Xander put a hand on her shoulder and felt her tense under it.

"Name one." She challenged.

"Pacey and Joey." He answered, quick as a flash.

"A real one, and besides it still early days for them."

Xander gestured across the room with his bottle. "Will and Ken seem to be doing okay."

"Again I hold up the early day's card. Give them time and it'll all come crashing down."

Xander frowned at her. "I get why you're cynical about your own relationships." Hell, he was too. About his own and Buffy's most of the time. "But it's not like you to be this way about other people."

"I'm not, not really." She promised, leaning her butt against the dip table and staring down at her feet. "I just…Is it ever going to work? How many Mr… Miss Wrong's do we have to go through before..?" She looked up at him with oceany eyes.

"Faith is a Miss Wrong now then?" He asked carefully.

"Well she's not Mrs. Fucking-Right at the moment, that's for sure."

Xander flinched at her angry tone. He'd never heard Buffy curse like that before, well maybe a little over Angel, and maybe Giles too, when Buffy had been really pissed at him, but it wasn't something he was used to. It killed him to hear her so torn up, especially over Faith.

"Sorry." She muttered at his reaction and wiped a hand across her eyes. "She just gets me so…"

She didn't have to finish, he knew what she meant. Sometimes he'd wanted to throttle Anya because of the things she said and did, or the way she said them and did them. Other times they made him as hot as the good kind of hell. Either way she could always push his buttons. Love was indeed the wackiest of beasts.

Watching Buffy wipe at tears she hoped no one but him could see, Xander reached a decision. He'd wanted to wait until it was all done, to maximise the surprise, but it would have to do. His friend needed cheering up, and as sure as his name was Alexander Lavelle Harris, he was the man to do it.

"Buffy, would you come outside? I want to show you something." He held out his hand to her.

She looked at it. "Is this a come on." She asked with a sniffly chuckle. "Are you taking advantage of my vulnerability, Xander?"

He chuckled back, his hand still waiting for hers. "Only if you want me too." He winked his good eye.

She put her hand in his. "Then what are we waiting for." She winked back.

He choked literally and metorphorically. "I was kidding." He laughed nervously as he tried to wrench his hand free from Buffy's. A few people looked over so he stopped moving abruptly and lowered his voice. "Kidding!"

"Jeez Xan, take a pill. So was I." She laughed at him.

"Don't do that to a guy Buffy, you could have given me a heart attack." He started to lead her into the kitchen. His pulse was still racing a little, and he had no idea why.

"Well thanks for making me sound like such an attractive proposition. You started it."

Uh-oh, now she sounded offended. If this was how he cheered up women, maybe his name wasn't Alexander Lavelle Harris.

"Hey of course you're an attractive proposition and I'd love to, you know, but I have this little fear of taking advantage of you. What with all your exes still being in love with you and having supernatural strength. Well except Riley, but I don't think I could take him either."

Okay so this blithering wasn't helping if the increased pressure on his fragile man hand was anything to go by.

In the back garden he pulled his hand free with a grimace and a "Ye Gods." Resorting to a tried and tested argument, he said: "And anyway, you started it."

Buffy stood in front of him, not looking very happy, but at least the tears were gone. So score one for team Xander.

"So what did you want to show me?" She demanded.

The very male part of him that was constantly sat on by living with a bunch of girls had the urge to grab his crotch and thrust, but correctly surmising that this would land him flat on his back before he could blink, he squashed it. He bet Faith could have gotten away with it though. He nodded towards the dark training barn instead.

"You're gonna show me your big secret?" She sounded sceptical, which was not the attitude he wanted from her for this. Maybe he should wait for a time when he hadn't just inadvertently pissed her off.

"Don't you want to see it?" He asked, hopefully.

"I want to stop with the double entendres, but that's obviously not happening." Buffy walked towards the barn. "Did you bring a torch out?"

"Don't need one." He said proudly, walking quickly past her so he could reach the door first.

Again she looked sceptical, and this time it made him smile. The last time he'd let anyone in here but Andrew, it had been nothing. Nothing at all; just a big, open dusty space. He pulled the key free from his pocket and slipped it into the lock.

"Ta da." He announced as he threw open the door.

Inside it was pitch black.

"Impressive." Mused Buffy sarcastically. "I haven't seen darkness that dark in like forever. You've excelled yourself Xander."

"Okay for a stylin' move like that one would have been, I actually have to fit the door sensor and not just will it there," he grumbled as he went in and groped along the wall for the light switch. It was one of the little things he had wanted to get done before he showed her, but never mind.

Xander heard Buffy's footsteps echoing as she walked in behind him. His fingers found what he was looking for and he flipped a few switches.

Electric light flooded the big barn and he turned in time to catch Buffy's mouth dropping. Oh yeah, that's what it was all about. He still had it.

* * *

Dawn looked away from her fascinating conversation with Reece and another of the boys, Peter, when Buffy and Xander re-entered the party from the kitchen. Her sister was looking way brighter than she had earlier, thank God.

"Buffy." She called over.

Buffy gave her a smile from across the room and signalled that she'd be there in a minute.

"So that's your sister then?" Asked Reece, checking the blonde out. "The legendary Buffy Summers."

"Uh huh." Dawn enthused "The one and only."

"She's as off her head as the books say." The other guy, Peter, laughed.

"Hey!" Snapped Dawn. She wasn't sure she liked him too much anyway. Where Reece was full of charm and wit and knew loads about demons, Peter just thought he was full of charm, was snide instead of funny and didn't really seem to know all that much about why he was here.

"I'm just saying darlin'." Peter said smoothly. "No need to get your knickers twisted. I'm sure she's lovely under that eccentric veneer."

"Don't mind Pete, he doesn't get to socialise with women much. He's a bit out of practise." Reece led Dawn over to the dip table, shooting a wink at Peter behind her back. The slightly shorter young man scowled after them.

Kennedy came down the front stairs and went to join Andrew, Alison and another of the new guys. A boy not much taller than herself, with neatly combed blonde hair and glasses that sat crookedly on his nose.

"Andrew, didn't you say you were putting Goorzie in your bedroom?"

Andrew nodded at the small Slayer. "Uh yeah, why?"

"Well I just went in to see her and she's not there."

"Oh God. Buffy's going to kill me if she ruins things." Andrew looked around desperately, hoping to spot the baby demon before anyone else did.

"I think things are already ruined." Kennedy reasoned.

Andrew swallowed. "I guess, but we still have to find her. She could be anywhere!"

Kennedy agreed and the two went off to look.

"Who's Goorzie, another Slayer?" The English boy asked.

"Nah she's our pet demon." Alison looked around for a distraction. She was really missing Miranda and Cici right now, and Kate of course. She sighed; Anthony was a nice enough person, but he was hardly party material.

"Gosh." He spluttered into his soda. "You have a pet demon. That's very…um…"

"I know."

"Giles!" Buffy startled her ex-watcher. "Did you see what Xander's done to the training barn?" She let go of the carpenter's arm and nudged him instead with her elbow.

Giles turned to them. "Ah, no. Is it bad?" He asked with a smile.

"Only in the sense that bad means really, really cool. You have to come see it." She grabbed his wrist and was obviously prepared to tow him along if he resisted.

"One minute Buffy." He halted her. "First let me introduce you to Miss Naomi Ramstock." He turned to a tall girl, about Kennedy's age, with long hair the colour of white gold. Buffy had to look up to get a good look. The girl was definitely striking and Buffy had the sneaking suspicion that the hair colour was real. That wasn't fair. "Naomi, this is Buffy Summers. My Slayer."

Buffy and Naomi shook hands. "Its nice to meet you, really, but I have to show Giles something." Buffy apologised. "We'll be right back."

"Of course, Miss Summers." Said Naomi politely.

As the Slayer dragged Giles away, Xander smiled widely at Naomi. "I'm Xander. Slayerette."

They shook hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you Xander. I recall my father mentioning you after a trip to Sunnydale."

Xander blushed. "Really? I was worth a mention." Remembering the last time the Council had travelled to the Hellmouth, his enthusiasm waned. "Oh wait, it probably went somewhere along the lines of "That foolish young man will get himself killed, if the Slayer doesn't." Am I right?"

"Actually…" Naomi began, but a cry from Buffy made her pause.

"Xander come get your praise."

"I have to go." He said. "But I hope you enjoy your stay. It's a tourist town you know."

He backed away and when Naomi was standing alone once more, another of the new Watcher trainees joined her.

"Alright Nay." He looked around the busy room. "I'm starting to think this idea was stupid, any chance your parents will fork out for an early ticket home." The dark-haired lad rubbed at the tip of his nose, still checking the room out furtively.

"I believe there is no chance what-so-ever." Naomi told him, slight amusement in her tone. "In fact if my father finds out that you lied to get the money out of him in the first place he'll probably make you pay back every last penny."

"I didn't lie! I just used my imagination to create an opportunity."

"So what are you going to do now? If you've changed your mind about "_The Plan_." She made finger quotes. "I'm pleased, but what next?"

"I haven't changed my mind about the plan, have I? I just think its going to be riskier than I reckoned. This place 'ent as big as I thought. Its gonna be harder to not get noticed is all."

"Then why don't you come clean? What have you got to lose?" Naomi gave him a pointed look. She'd known this had never been a good idea, but he was her best friend so what could she do?

Her best friend turned on her suddenly, eyes colder than they had been a second ago. "Why are you here?" His voice was harsh and his expression was more so.

Naomi wasn't perturbed by his change of demeanour. "Because of my family's destiny, as well you know." She smiled softly. "And because it would break my father's heart if I denied it."

"And that's the same reason I can't come clean, as well you know," he returned softly, relaxing a little. "I've got a destiny too, en' I. Just a tad different from yours."

Naomi sighed deeply. "Then what?"

"Dunno." He looked around again. "I'll think of something."

"Hello you two. Is this your first visit to the States?" Willow bustled up, slightly annoyed that Giles, Buffy and Xander were off somewhere together with out her, but to polite to rush off after them and leave all the guests. On top of that her girlfriend had gone missing too. She looked around for her again now. "How long does it take to find a demon?" She wondered aloud. "I'm Willow, by the way." She added with a fixed smile, as they stared

"Is that some kind of conundrum?" Asked Naomi, elbowing her companion in the ribs to get him to stop staring. "I'm Naomi Ramstock."

"You are Willow Rosenberg?" The lad asked in surprise.

"Uh huh." Willow confirmed nervously. Why was he staring like that? Did she have something in her teeth? Goddess, she hated social functions like this one, especially when everyone she held near and dear had gone awol. "And you are?"

"Craig," he bit his lip, "I mean, oh sod it, I'm Craig." He couldn't remember the name he was supposed to be using. He grabbed her hand and shook it vigorously to cover his gaffe.

Willow grinned at him. "Are you sure?" She teased. "If you'd like a minute to think about it…"

He smiled back, a full-on toothpaste commercial type smile which made his Creosote eyes sparkle mischievously. "I'm sure." He finally released her hand. "I can't believe you're Willow, and like actually here, y'know."

"You've heard of me then." She chuckled at his reaction. Now she knew how Buffy felt sometimes. Hero worship didn't suck.

"Are you joking? You tried to destroy the world. Of course I've heard about yer!" Craig yammered on.

And sometimes hero worship did suck. "We don't really talk about that." Willow looked around for a way out.

"Well no I don't s'pose its something you're proud of, but still… I'd really like to hear about it some time. I've heard the stories, y'know, but…" Craig finally paid attention to the elbow nearly puncturing his spleen. "What?" He snapped at Naomi.

"I think we need to let Ms Rosenberg breathe for a minute Craig, why don't we get some more drinks." Naomi took a hold of his arm.

"But…" He started.

"Actually I have to find the others anyway, but we'll talk later, okay. Although maybe not about ending the world. Giles might not like that." Willow slipped away, giving Naomi a grateful smile as she did. 'Whew that boy was intense.'

"Is this you being subtle?" Naomi asked her friend once the witch was out of ear shot.

Craig smiled at her. "I don't know what came over me, I just… Wow, Willow Rosenberg. My dad is not going to believe this when I write to him." He spotted Mr. Giles coming through the kitchen door. "Bugger, I better make myself scarce before I make things even worse."

Giving her upper-arm a little squeeze Craig walked away. As he passed the dip table, he picked up a bowl of crisps and walked casually past their hosts, out into the kitchen and through the back door.

Takinghis stolen crisps out beyond the girls' dormitory,Craig beganlooking for somewhere to hole up for a few hours out of the way. There were plenty of barns to choose from, the hard bit was choosing one that he wouldn't get found in.

After peeking in a few dark windows, he settled on what looked like a garage. The people who lived here were throwing a party so there wasn't much chance of any of them needing a car.

Quietly he opened the door; pleased it wasn't locked, and let himself into the shadows. He could make out the shapes of several vehicles, but it was too dark to suss out details. Picking one in the middle, he felt his way around it and got in the passenger seat. So far so good; he started eating the crisps. Now he just had to pull off thegrand plan and everything would be gravy.

* * *

Dawn cornered Xander by the stereo at the same time as Willow did.

"Is she okay?"

Xander kept his voice low as he pretended to peruse some CD cases. "At present Hurricane Buffy is hovering harmlessly off the coast, but don't let this lull you into a false sense of security. She is still very powerful and could sweep through here and blow the crap out of all of us." He paused while he thought about that. "I'd like to change the 'blowing' metaphor for Dawn's ears but I can't think of a better one."

Willow was studying the blonde from their corner, she was joking around with Alison; about what she had no idea. "She seems okay."

"Appearances can be deceptive." Xander explained. "I'd suggest keeping away from her if weapons get involved, no mention of the F word at all unless she is restrained and …Be careful of her humour," he held a finger up, "it is strange and and if misunderstood, will possibly lead to eruptions."

"I thought she was a hurricane a minute ago? Hurricanes don't erupt." Dawn corrected him.

"Do you think Buffy cares about little things like? If she wants to erupt she will."

Willow nodded, conceding his point. "How did you make it out alive?"

"I had a state of the art, fully functional training barn to give her." He admitted with a little pride. "If you don't have the same then I suggest you heed my advice."

"You two are so strange." Dawn was staring at them like they'd grown more heads. "She's just Buffy." Spotting something that made her eyes light up, she excused herself. "Reece and Peter are heading outside. I'd better make sure they don't get lost."

Xander and Willow watched her go. "Is it me or does that girl show no fear over imminent Slayer insanity?"

Willow was frowning. "I think living with Buffy for so long has given her immunity. I'm worried about her."

He shook his head. "Those kids know better than to mess with the Slayer's little sister, she'll be alright." He said the words to reassure her, but deep down he wanted to go out there and make sure Reece and Peter knew it too.

"Not Dawn." Said Willow. "Buffy."

"Oh." They both looked over to her again. She was still standing with Alison, although it looked like the hit of happiness the training room had given her was starting to wear off. "She'll be okay. She has us."

The red-head nodded, but he wasn't sure she'd heard him. "We have to find Faith."

* * *

Faith looked around the small room.

It wasn't much, but it was still better than a lot of the places she'd slept. It had a bed, a tiny bathroom with a shower stall, and the very best thing – no bars on the window, no locks slamming closed and no crying or whimpering or screaming… She cocked her head a little; listening to something carried her way on soft night breeze, and smirked. Well not crying or whimpering or screaming in fear and terror anyway.

She dropped her bag by the foot of the bed and kicked off her boots. A shower would be good and then sleep. It was still early, not even nine yet, but the last twenty-four hours had taken its toll on Faith and she was about beat. Celebrating her freedom could wait for another night.

She'd found the diner easy enough and was pleased to see it was still open despite it being dark out. She didn't stop right away; first of all she'd driven through to the other end of town.

This place was, or had been, a mining town with plenty of evidence of that left around to amuse the tourists. At the far end of the main road was a turn off leading to the perfect example. Posters flapped in the gentle wind declaring tours of abandoned shafts filled with prospecting ghosts. It sounded like a hoot to Faith, but right now she was interested in it for more practical reasons. Turning off, she'd jerkily pulled the car away from the road, cursing as it bumped and scraped over ruts and fallen branches as she did so. When it was firmly wedged out of sight of the main road, between boulders and bushes, she cut the engine and climbed out.

Locking the car up soundly Faith walked back the way she had come and checked on one of the flyers.

The tours didn't start up until ten in the morning, meaning that if luck was on her side for once, she had until nine – nine-thirty to get back to it and get gone. She'd need the ride in the morning for her plans sure as hell did not include spending the rest of her life in a one horse town in the middle of the desert.

The meal at the diner had been good, probably because she was starving and she'd have happily eaten the towns one horse if it came grilled with a side of fries. It hadn't come cheap though. Faith had some money from her work in the laundry, but if she wanted it to last until she ended up where she was going then she had to be careful.

"Slayer's gotta eat though." She justified the cost as she finished stripping off her road-dusty clothes and entered the shower. She hissed in pleasure as she did.

If the meal had been expensive, the room was more so. Apparently, according to the motel guy at the front desk, it was a busy weekend in where-ever the hell she was, which meant the prices were riked way up.

She'd done her best, but the guy had to be gay because he hadn't lowered them for her.

Faith knew she wouldn't be able to spend every night in a motel, not if a plain little place like this in the middle of nowhere was asking that much. She hadn't thought about that when she'd skipped out, had she?

"Story of my life." She told the shower head, spitting out water as it got in her mouth. "I wouldn't be me if I started thinking things through."

No, but she'd probably be someone who was curled up in bed with the honey of her dreams. Wasn't that the person she wanted to be?

Yeah, but she wasn't that person, that was the whole point. She'd gone back to prison believing by the time they let her out again, she would have made peace with her demons and be a better person for it. Only then would she deserve to be the person that Buffy snuggled with at night, or in the morning…afternoon…evening…

And damn it, she'd done her best. She'd been the perfect little prisoner. Kept her nose clean, helped out her fellow inmate and it had all been for shit. They'd let her out to soon.

Maybe another six months and she'd have come to terms with what she'd done to Lolitta. Namely: one broken arm, four broken fingers, a fractured hip, broken jaw, five teeth out, one badly sprained ankle and a serious concussion. Oh and her nose had needed completely rebuilding, but on that score Faith figured she'd done the bitch a favour. Any cosmetic assist Lol could get had to be a good thing.

Janey had pointed out over and over the past week that Faith was better than she had been or else the Italian-American bully would have been dead.

Faith didn't buy it. The fact that, even if just for a second, she'd wanted to kill Lol, meant nothing had changed, and Faith wasn't going back to Buffy until she had changed.

Finishing up in the shower, she dried quickly and got into the bed naked. Damn, but that felt good to be between clean sheets and a comfy mattress, mixed with the day's exertions and her full stomach; it wasn't long before she was asleep.

* * *

Andrew rounded a corner and suddenly came upon Dawn and some of the new Watcher potentials standing behind the girl's dormitory.

"Dawn, have you seen Goorzar? I've been looking everywhere."

"No, uh Andrew this is…" She began, gesturing to Reece, Peter and Rajiv.

Andrew looked to the people he was being introduced to. "Are you guys smoking? That's like, really not a good idea. If Mr Giles finds out..?"

"Then don't tell him and he won't." Reece countered. He stood nearly a head taller than Andrew.

Andrew didn't like to be dominated, but he had plenty of practice in it. Averting his eyes from the taller boy he looked to Dawn. "You're not smoking too are you? 'Cause Buffy will make you eat a pack if she finds out and …"

Dawn held up her cigarette free hands. "I haven't touched one." She assured.

"Well, that's…" Andrew swiftly glanced around him. Everyone was staring his way. "…Okay then, I guess. I have to find Goorzar now, but I'm gonna come back this way and I want to see all of these, these…cancer sticks put out. Have I made myself clear?"

Peter took a last drag on his cigarette. "Piss off, pillock." He drawled wearily and flicked the stub at Andrew's knuckles.

The ex-super villain jumped back and pulled his arm to his chest, even though the butt had glanced harmless off of his hand without burning him.

Andrew glared at Peter, who was looking the other way and sniggering, then to Reece who offered a shrug and wore the makings of a smile.

"I'm gonna go." He said quietly.

Dawn was about to go with him, but he'd already disappeared by the time she'd finished glowering at Peter. "That was…" She began.

Reece smacked the jerk on the back of the head, cutting her off. "Be nice, you little shit." He warned.

Rajiv flicked his own cigarette away. "So Dora, do you know where we can get something a little stronger to smoke?" To Dawn he sounded like Spike had, when Spike wanted to sound bad.

Dawn shook her head slowly. Apart from Reece, who lets face it, was way out of her league and that little kid Anthony, who looked about fourteen, all these guys were asses. So much for the Trans-Atlantic affair she'd been planning.

* * *

Craig didn't know how long he'd been sat there in the dark. Probably not long. Possibly ten or twenty minutes. He could still hear music coming from the main house and every now and again snatches of conversation drifted past the garage.

The car seat was quite comfortable compared to them bloody seats on the plane and he was just starting to drop off when he heard a rattle from somewhere nearby.

He jerked himself upright. Snakes? It would be just his luck to come all this way only to wind up dead from a poisonous worm. He opened the car door, wanting to run like hell and get up on something high, but he hesitated before putting his leg out. Didn't they attack movement? He shuddered as he imagined twin needle-like teeth piercing his skin. No one knew he was in here. If his foot got bit then he wouldn't be able to walk and he'd die in here over night. They'd find his body in the morning all purple and bloated, and …that.

He gave himself a full body shake and only just stopped short of slapping a hand to his cheek to calm himself down. His foot was almost on the floor when the rattle came again, except it was more of a clatter. He withdrew his leg, pulling his knee to his chin and hugging it. "Crikey it's a bloody mutant snake an' all. Bleeding Hellmouths." He muttered.

He nearly messed himself when he was answered in a low, raspberry-blowing growl. "Goorzie Bad Girl!"

He'd slammed the door shut again in his fright and now he sat all hunched up on the seat, shaking a little. "Snakes don't talk not even mutant snakes. I don't think they do anyway." He rolled the window down part way. "Who-who's there?" He called out.

The rattle came again, making Craig flinch, followed by a shuffly-slithery noise that took him back to the snake image and caused him to tighten his grip on the door handle.

Five minutes must have passed and the sound of his heart beat was loud in his ears and he was sweating and his chest hurt from trying to hold his breath and if this was that bloody Peter taking the piss he was going to forget his motto of being a lover and not a fighter and knock his teeth down his piggin' throat.

Licking his suddenly chapped lips he decided making a dash for it was the only thing left and he let go of the door handle long enough to disengage the lock and then grabbed at it again, ready to push the door open.

Before his courage peaked enough to make the move, two leathery hands gripped the half open window and a monstrous head was pulled into view.

Craig fell back across the seats with a shriek. From outside the car the monster shrieked back accompanied by loud bangs as its feet continuously hit the metal from the outside.

This went on until the young impostor realised the thing was laughing. Big, noisy hiccups supplemented a gravelly giggling sound and the occasional high pitched squeal. It was still a scary sound, especially in the dark when he could only make out shapes and shadows, but he felt it was definitely made from amusement and not malice.

Just what the hell was it?

"Shhhhhh." He tried to shut it up, becoming conscious of the amount of noise they'd made when he was supposed to be hiding. A wave of genius flashed through him and he fumbled around above his head until his fingers located a little tiny button and flipped it over.

The over-head light came on and Craig got his first good look at Goorzar. He jumped back from the leathery face with the squashed up nose and slightly elongated jaw housing a healthy amount of horse teeth. Or at least they looked like horses teeth. Which was tons better than sharks teeth, he realised with relief.

Goorzar's wide, pale orange eyes stared back at the boy. She was temporarily quiet while she studied him, mouth wide open to better catch his scent.

"What are you?" He asked.

When he spoke she pulled herself up. Her long, thick fingers hooked over the half open window and she squeezed herself through the eight inch gap. Shoulders, knees and elbows dislocated themselves with no pain or discomfort and then flowed back to make proper shaped limbs once more.

Craig was fixated on the process, only becoming concerned again when he had a lapful of the demon. "So what are you?" He asked again.

She hooked her fingers into his shirt pocket and snatched up the bowl of crisps he'd nicked with the other hand, or paw. A Dorito went into her mouth and she sucked it noisily. Satisfied she'd sucked all the goodness out of it, she took it out of her own mouth and gently tried to push the soggy crisp into Craig's.

"Ahhgerroff." He told her, laughing and trying to keep his mouth closed at the same time.

Hiccupping, she pushed the offering up his nose.

* * *

Kennedy crawled out from beneath the stairs. No luck in there either. They were running out of options. She was beginning to think Goorzar had run away and maybe it was time to form a proper search party. Buffy would just have to deal.

Her head banged into something and she looked up. "Willow!"

"Kennedy?"

The Slayer jumped to her feet. "Have you seen her?"

"You're still looking for Goorzar?" Willow didn't look happy. "You've been at it half the night. Don't you want to spend some of the party with me?"

"Of course. It's just; she's out there somewhere all alone." Kennedy reasoned anxiously. "We have to keep looking."

"Sometimes I think you love that demon more than me?" Willow pouted playfully. "She gets all the hugs and snuggles and belly rubs, while I cook for you and wash your clothes."

Kennedy smirked. "Andrew does all that." She put her arms around her girlfriend, pulled her closer and kissed her. "Your duties are way more important, some might call them, vital even."

Willow leaned in to initiate her own kiss. "Ten more minutes of looking and then come do the party thing, 'kay?"

Kennedy smiled. "Anything for you, baby."

Of course the next kiss cut into that ten minutes considerably, but Andrew was a man on a mission. He'd find her.

* * *

Andrew coughed a little as he walked away, for effect more than from second-hand smoke in his lungs, but he did it discreetly which totally spoiled the 'effect' he was going for.

Peeved, he made his way to the woodshed. None of them really went in there any more. It had been freely given to the Pixies and as such was their property. It was one of the few places left to look though, so he hoped they didn't mind him visiting.

He knocked gently and nibbled at his knuckles nervously waiting for an answer.

Slowly, and creepily, the recently re-erected door swung inwards.

"Hello." He called out softly. "Goorzar?"

A Pixie appeared half way up the door, like a tiny purple Spiderman. "Yaw groot bastie esell heere, Biggar."

"She's not here." Andrew translated. "Oh, okay, sorry to bother you. I'll be…" He was already backing away. Not all of the Pixies had gotten over their dislike of the new tenants. Sometimes they threw things really hard.

"Aye, ess en thaa carriage dweelling."

"Uh, where?" He wondered if there was a Webster's Pixie to English dictionary on sale.

The pixie pointed his tiny arm and Andrew looked that way. "She's in the garage?"

"Iss." Andrew knew that meant yes. "Yaw aarving aah cellebrahshun?"

He was lost again. "I, ah…"

In the little light coming from the house he could still make out the tiny guy's intense concentration while he tried to come up with the right word.

"Aarving aah jiig." It mimed putting something to his mouth; its other hand was still gripping the door. "Booze." It said in perfect English.

Backing away, Andrew raised his hands in appeal. The Pixies weren't supposed to find out about the 'Watchers Selection Week' and the trainee's were all over the place. He'd be in deep doo if he let the cat out of the bag.

"No, no. No party. Just a gathering for some friends. We would have invited you, but y'know, you're kinda mauve and way too many people judge on first impressions and we didn't want to put you through that. Sorry, I've got to go now."

As he turned, Andrew heard the door click shut behind him, and breathed a sigh of relief.

There was a window set into the door of the garage. Not a big one, only about half a foot square, but through the haze of dirt on the pane, Andrew could now make out a light. He peeked in, but other than that it probably came from a car, he could discern nothing else.

Holding his breath he tried the door. It should have been locked, but the handle turned easily. It was easy to forget about security when you were the only people around for miles.

He hesitated before pushing the door open though. Goorzar was pretty smart for a baby. She could feed herself with a plastic fork, and play catch, and between the pair of them, Kennedy and Andrew had her fully potty trained. The difficult bit had been to get her to not eat the toilet paper after she'd used it, but they persevered and she'd gotten it in the end.

Andrew didn't think she'd have been able to open the car door and put on the light herself yet though.

So who else was in here, and why? Were the Watcher's Council jerks in here smoking? They had better not be if Goorzar was in here. He would tell Giles then, however bad-ass they thought they were.

With a determined expression he pushed the door wide and stepped in, flicking on the light as he did so.

Sitting in the one normal car they owned was Goorzar, but she wasn't alone. It was one of the guys from England, but Andrew could only recall seeing him prior to the doomed surprise party. He didn't remember being introduced to him.

The guy looked up, startled when the light came on, and Andrew got a good look at his surprised expression. Dark eyes had widened comically and his mouth hung open the same way. Until Goorzar pushed something into it making the boy splutter. He leaned out of the open window and spat it out.

Andrew relaxed a little when he realised the kid was laughing. "Goorzar! What are you doing in here? I've been looking for ages for you."

The guy had the car door open now and the little demon jumped out and scampered to him and leapt upwards. The wall caught Andrew before he could go over backwards and he rested there struggling not to drop the excited bundle of fuzzy hair in his arms.

"Obviously likes you." Andrew looked around Goorzar to the guy. He was out of the car and leaning against it now, still wiping his mouth on his shirt sleeve and occasionally spitting bits out. "Why does it have to suck them until they disintegrate?"

Andrew hugged Goorzar to him. "She's a she not an it."

Craig nodded. "If you say so. So what is she?"

Andrew hesitated. They still weren't entirely sure. All Buffy and the girls had given Giles to go on was that the mother demon had been big and hairy and pissed off, with huge hands. If Andrew had to guess he'd have gone with a Bonabopenta, but no one was interested in his knowledge. Everyone just assumed if he knew something it was evil.

Except this boy didn't know about his past, and he was asking. "I think she's a Bonabopenta." Goorzar had hopped down and, hooking a paw into his jeans pocket, tugged Andrew to the car.

The guy was laughing. "Isn't that Spanish for bird or something."

"No. It's a type of bi-pedal demon found in Africa. I don't know how her Mom got all the way over here." Goorzar had pulled him so he was face to face with the stranger. He tried to pull her hand away so he could step back a little, but she had a grip like a vice when she wanted to. Feeling uncomfortable, he changed the subject. "You shouldn't be in here. You should get back to the party."

"I…Well the thing is mate, I'm not really in the mood for a party. Long flight an' all that. I jus' wanted a touch of piece and quiet."

"Oh." Andrew thought about it. "Well the guy's dormitory is done. I could take you over there if you like and you can get settled in."

The boy's eyes lit up and he broke into a big smile, which made Andrew feel absurdly pleased with his simple suggestion. "That'd be pucka mate. Thanks."

Andrew smiled back shyly. "That's cool." He hazarded. What did pucka mean? He was being offered a hand, so he shook it.

Or tried to, the boy pulled his hand closer, making the blonde tense, and then he rotated his palm, squeezing, and then pulled it backwards until just their fingertips touched. Andrew tried to keep up with the secret handshake but it was difficult when you didn't know how it went.

"I'm Craig."

"Andrew."

"Pleased to meet ya. So where's this bedroom?" Craig started towards the door. He looked down when a paw gently clasped his hand. It made him smile. "So has she got a name?"

"Yeah, it's Goorzar. It's not particularly pretty, but it's what she came with and we didn't like to change it." Andrew explained as he led the way out of the garage and across the back yard.

"Came with? So she's like a Cabbage Patch Doll?" Craig chuckled.

"No doofus." Andrew thought he should be offended on his baby demon's behalf, but he could tell Craig was only joking. It was obvious he and Goorzar had already taken a shine to each other. "Her mother was killed in a tragic slaying accident and we adopted her."

"What, she got caught in the cross fire like? That's harsh."

Andrew frowned and leaned closer to the other guy. "Well no, all the fire was aimed at her, but we don't want to upset Goorzie, so we don't talk about it." He whispered in Craig's ear, glancing at the demon in question to gauge how much she'd understood. Not a lot by the way she was snuffling happily at the grass as she walked along next to them.

Craig leaned in also and whispered back. "Fair enough mate, my lips are sealed."

Walking around the back of the dark training barn Andrew saw that the three Watcher potentials were still standing around, but he couldn't make out Dawn. Good, he didn't want her to hang around with them.

Craig didn't even spare them a glance, instead he kept looking down at Goorzar with eyes full of amazement, and then back up to catch Andrew's eyes, grinning like an idiot. Andrew was grinning like an idiot too. It was nice to see someone else get so much pleasure out of being with Goorzar.

At the boys dormitory Andrew stepped ahead and opened the door. Reaching around on the wall he found the light switch and the room was suddenly very bright. It was smaller than the girl's room, because not many of the potential Watchers would be picked to stay here. There were ten beds, but only a handful of them were made up and ready to go.

"You're the first in here, so I guess you get first pick." Andrew moved aside to let the other boy in, but Craig remained hovering in the doorway with him.

"Great, I, ah…" He carefully pulled his hand free from Goorzar's.

"Oh do you have stuff." Andrew suddenly thought. "We could go get it now before you, you know, go to bed. Is it still on the minibus?" He was already walking back to the house.

"Ah, nah, don't worry about it. I'll get it later, I just wanna lay down." Craig called after him.

Andrew wandered back, a little disappointed. "Okay then. Well I guess…"

"Hey Craigy, that your new girlfriend."

Peter. He was lounging a little way off, watching them with a smirk.

Andrew tutted. If he thought a lame insult like that was going to worry him, he didn't know what Andrew has suffered through in school. Well until the flying monkeys, after that he'd gotten a little respect. Kind of.

Craig didn't look to be handling it quite so well. Nervous, dark brown eyes met his. "Don't listen to him; he just likes to think he's clever." The eyes dropped to the ground and Andrew watched as his tongue nervously darted over his bottom lip. "I mean I hardly even know you…" Craig was trying for a smile, but it came out awkward.

Oh crap!

Andrew groped around for Goorzar's paw. "Don't worry about it. We're cool." He tried to back up a step while appearing not to move. Which was impossible. "You should get some sleep, you'll look good in the morning, I mean, feel good, better, you'll feel better…in the morning." Andrew looked around him, Peter was still watching with a smirk. So this was uncomfortable. "Um…" And now his smile was weird too. "Goodnight."

For once it was Andrew dragging Goorzar along. His face was hot and his heart was all pitter-patter and his palm felt slick against the hairyness of Goorzie's. Maybe he was getting sick, he had coughed a few times last Sunday.

"Andrew!"

The young man stopped pulling Goorzar through the kitchen and spun to face Kennedy. The baby demon gave a squee of delight.

"Hey, uh, hey."

"You found her then." The small brunette Slayer dropped to her knees and Goorzar climbed onto them for a cuddle.

"Uh yeah," Andrew stood with his hands clasped in front of him, thumbs restlessly fiddling with each other. He glanced over his shoulder once, looking through the back door and out into the night.

"Andrew, are you okay?" Kennedy laughed, watching him.

He snapped out of his weird spell when he registered her amusement.

"Yeah, so I'm going to go to bed now, um, will you get Goorzie settled in?" Kennedy nodded and he continued. "Her teeth need brushing again, she's been eating Doritos." He hurried up the back stairs before she could respond to that.

The small Slayer chuckled after him, picked the demon up and carried her to the sink. Sitting her on the edge with a command of "Stay!" She bent to retrieve a chewed brush and a half empty tube of tooth paste.

Kennedy ran the brush under the cold water faucet. "No. We can't keep going through a tube a week, let me." She said when Goorzar tried to squeeze the tube in her hand.

Goorzar hiccupped and opened her mouth wide. She loved the taste of the paste and delighted in blowing the froth at whoever was unfortunate enough to have the task. Kennedy set to brushing the large flat molars on either side of her jaw, top and bottom. Her front teeth were bigger, but conical. They sometimes gave her the look of a braying Donkey.

"Do we have to do that in here? Isn't this why we have a garden?"

Kennedy answered Buffy without looking away from Goorzar. "You're not doing it and no, the garden just came with the house."

"I'm not wiping demon spit out of the sink again." Buffy's tone was frosty, but Kennedy knew that the older Slayer had never had to clean up after Goorzar.

She and Andrew actually enjoyed all the little chores that came with looking after her. The girls and Xander were usually happy to help too. Only Giles, Rona and Buffy had as little to do with the baby as possible.

Buffy started again. "Who knows how many germs live in that mouth. Demons have different saliva to us, you know. Just because it doesn't poison her, doesn't mean it won't poison us."

Kennedy finished up, put the tooth brush away before Goorzar could start gnawing, and turned to the blonde. She was leaning against the kitchen table, arms crossed over her chest, lines marring her forehead as she reasoned out her argument.

"I know what this is about Buffy. Do you want to spar or something? It might make you feel better than picking on poor, defenceless Goorzie." Kennedy crossed her own arms. She didn't want to spar, she wanted to spend the last few minutes of the rapidly winding down party with Willow, but she could see that her elder was coiled tight with hidden emotion and she knew this was what her girlfriend would want her to do.

"No I'm fine … I just," Buffy huffed a little, "I didn't think my retirement would involve watching a demon have her bed time teeth done."

Kennedy laughed and Buffy allowed herself a smile too.

The younger Slayer picked Goorzar off the sink and carried her to her bed-box. Passing Buffy, she said: "Give Auntie Buffy a kiss goodnight." And leaned towards the blonde.

Buffy jumped onto the table and scooted backwards on her butt. "Don't even dare!"

Kennedy laughed again and settled the baby in her box. Goorzar blew a raspberry against her pant leg and pulled her blanket over her head. "She's getting too big for this box," she began and, without a breath, finished with, "so Willow's going to do a locator spell for Faith tomorrow."

She didn't turn around in the pause that followed.

"I guess that's the first place to start." Came the flat reply.

Now Kennedy turned around. Buffy was sitting cross-legged, looking down at the table top, pushing around some coloured strands of paper which had earlier been let loose from a party banger. "Or you could just let her go."

Buffy didn't explode like she half expected; instead she let loose a wintry chuckle. "And where's the fun in that." She held up a hand to Kennedy's answer. "I need some air; I'll see you in the morning."

Kennedy let her leave. She didn't know what else to say anyway. If Buffy still wanted Faith after this then, well, Faith must be some kind of wonder-god in the sack. Arms went around her waist and she leaned back against the warm, safe body of her lover.

"Where do you think she is?" She asked.

Willow leaned her chin on Kennedy's shoulder and spoke softly in to her ear. "Who Faith? If I had to make a guess, I'd guess somewhere with copious amounts of drugs, sex and scary music." She kissed gently across the Slayers shoulder and up her neck.

"Then as Buffy's best friend don't you think it's your job to kick her ass until she gets over this useless obsession with her." Kennedy responded angrily. She calmed a little when Willow ran her tongue around the shell of her ear. "What do we do? Look for her forever?"

"Faith has problems. Buffy loves Faith. Buffy wants to help Faith deal with those problems." Willow went back to teasing the soft skin just below her ear and Kennedy wrapped her own arms around the red-head's. "With a side dish of snuggles."

"But it's not as simple as that is it?" Kennedy turned in her lover's arms as she asked her questions. "Maybe Faith doesn't want her help?"

"Maybe Faith doesn't know what she wants." Willow countered. "If I had problems I didn't know I had, wouldn't you want to help me?"

Kennedy kissed her. "You know I would." She breathed when they broke apart again.

"Even if it meant combing the country for me?" Willow asked.

She nuzzled Willow's neck, eyes closing as she breathed in the essence of this powerful woman. "If it meant combing the world."

"Then you know why we have to help Buffy help Faith."

"Okay I'm convinced." Taking a stepping forwards, she caused Willow to take a step backwards and when the table halted them Kennedy leaned forward and kissed the witch forcefully on the mouth. "We don't have to help right now though do we." More kissing. "Because I was thinking we could move this party upstairs, just the two of us." Her hand started sliding up from Willow's waist.

Willow had to stop kissing to giggle and she lightly pushed at Kennedy, who pouted. "Not in front of the demon."

Kennedy looked over her shoulder. "She's asleep."

The red-head gave her a rueful smile and extricated herself from Kennedy's embrace. The Slayer wasn't very happy about it and sighed dolefully as she moved back a little. "She's outside."

Willow pressed some pretzels and an unopened bottle of wine into her hands. "Go on up. I'll be as quick as I can; I just want to see if she's okay."

Kennedy nodded. She got it, she wasn't stupid after all, and it was partly Willow's great big heart that had drawn the then-potential to her in the first place. That and the freckles. She just hoped that Buffy realised how lucky she was, even without the 'dark Slayer'.

With one last kiss she said. "I'll be in bed, waiting." Smiling, she went up the back stairs with the snacks and the wine.

* * *

Buffy, still in her little blue dress, worked hard on two punch bags simultaneously, hitting one with a flying kick as she jabbed out fast at the other. The only light was in the corner where she was working, and her shadow danced across the wall with her. No music was playing and her grunts of exertion sounded loud in the large barn.

For ten minutes Willow and Xander had been stood just outside the door watching. They didn't know is she was aware of they're presence or not. Both wore grave expressions as they scrutinized her for cracks in the armour.

"Do you think we should...?" Willow gestured through the door and looked up at her oldest friend, unsure.

"She needs to work it out of her system." He said quietly. "You know that." He looked down at her with a gentle smile.

"What if she can't?"

He sighed a little. "Then I'll take first shift, you take second." He gave her a little of the Xander twinkle. "I've got things I can do anyway." He thought about the shower block. Giles had been badgering him about it on and off all evening.

She smiled back. "Okay," she looked back to Buffy and her face scrunched up with compassion, "but if she talks to you, try and remember that she really likes Faith, even though you don't?" She asked.

"Hey, I think now is exactly the right time not to reme…"

She silenced him with a look. She knew what he meant. She even agreed with him.

But her look plainly said 'Don't go there. It's not worth it.'

"What? It's not like I think she's as bad as Angel." He whispered in return.

She acknowledged that with a smile. "Come get me if you need me." She told him, ready to go. "Ooh, but knock first, okay." She finished brightly and scampered off.

Xander stayed in the doorway, his reserved-for-Willow's-cuteness smile playing lightly on his lips. He could hear the murmur of two conversations coming from the dormitories, but he was either too far away, or the voices just weren't loud enough for him to make out what they were about. He let the soft noise roll over him as he sipped at his beer and watched Buffy spin around the punch bags. Plumbers could wait.

He didn't see the scouting party of little purple people climbing the side of the boy's dormitory not ten feet away, but if he had he probably wouldn't have thought much beyond 'cute'.


	4. Act 3

_Big thanks to everyone who's been reviewing this fic so far! I know it seems like there is a lot going on, two many pov's and scene changes. Sorry about that, but its just the way it wants to be written. Hopefully from the next episode it'll all seem simpler._

_I've split act 3 up into a few posts mainly so I can actually post something before the end of the next millenium.

* * *

**Act three**_

_Wednesday._

Buffy really would have preferred to have been doing this without an audience. It was bad enough that she was allowing Willow to do it at all. She should have just refused, but Will had asked her in the busy moment after breakfast when most of the camp residents were getting ready to leave and Buffy's tired brain had forgotten to be strong.

So here they were in the kitchen with Willow's pots of powders and potions on hand ready to be sprinkled across a slightly worn and torn map of the United States that was spread over the table. This map had gotten them from LA to Cleveland a few months before and now it was going to prove it was capable of more than one miracle by finding Faith.

"Okay I'm ready." Willow announced. "Guys could you keep it down a little while I chant?"

Buffy looked over at their audience, sitting on high stools at the breakfast counter. "Better yet, why don't you two go outside? Aren't you supposed to be with Giles anyway?" She asked of the new boy sitting with Andrew.

"Er, yeah, thing is see, they've gone out somewhere and I was in the loo when they left."

Buffy looked at Willow and raised an eyebrow.

"It's a bathroom. A loo's a bathroom, right?" Willow checked with the watcher wannabe.

He nodded. "Yeah so I missed the bus."

"And he's interested in magic so I thought it would be good for him to sit in and watch, you know as he missed out on the actual Watcher training." Explained Willow.

"Okay, so why's Andrew here?" Buffy looked over at her ex-arch-nemesis. "I don't want him learning how to manipulate the mojo any more than he already can."

The new kid turned excitedly to Andrew. "You can do magic?"

Andrew blushed. "Just a little, mostly summonsing and dark rituals…which I don't do any more." He shot a quick glance at Buffy who let him off with a mild glare.

"It's just a locating spell, Buff, not end of the world stuff."

"Okay, whatever, just both of you be quiet and let Will do her thing so we can get this over with."

Buffy was tired; she hadn't had any sleep the night before. When she'd finally left the training barn, she'd gone up to her room to pace around her bed until day-break.

As soon as they had found Faith she was planning on crashing for a few hours before she had to think about getting on a plane and confronting the selfish, stubborn pain in her ass.

Andrew and his new buddy piped down and Will got her mojo on while Buffy waited irritably for the results.

The foreign chant reached a peak, the witch threw some powder in the air and there was a flash of light over the map.

"Did it work?" Buffy leaned forward at once to look at the map.

Willow peered over it too and Andrew and the new kid hopped off their stools and came closer to the table.

A pin-prick of blue light hovered over the State of Nevada.

Buffy leaned closer. "Where is that?"

"I can't really narrow it down from Nevada." Willow admitted. "Except to say its a few miles north of Las Vegas by the looks of it."

Another blue light appeared and hovered over Montana. All eyes focused on it.

"Er, I don't know what you're trying to locate exactly, but can it fly and if so, can it fly that fast." The new kid asked, his eyes still on the map.

"No." Buffy bit her lip, also staring at the map. "Will?"

"Uh, I don't know Buffy. Maybe Angel found her and put her on a plane like he said."

"It would have to be a really fast plane." Andrew moved his finger back and forth across the map. "And that doesn't explain why there are two dots now; surely she'd just be a single moving dot?"

"Wait three dots." The new kid…

Buffy looked up at him for a second. "Do you have name?"

He looked up at her with a grin. "Yeah and there's four dots now."

Buffy looked back at the map. There was now a pin-prick of light hovering over Florida and another in Cleveland. Cleveland? Was there a chance..?

"Buffy, I don't think we're picking up Faith so much as just a part of her." Said Willow. "The good news is that we stumbled on an easier way to locate the new slayers. We won't have to rely so heavily on the coven's seers now."

As they looked on another tiny blue light joined the first over Cleveland and then another and another until it was quite a bright blue light.

Buffy sighed. "Which one do you think is me?" She indicated the bobbing blue lights over Cleveland.

Willow shrugged. "I don't know, if you like I can teleport you somewhere else and we can find out?"

"No thanks, teleporting makes me feel sick and anyway I know where I am. The important question is which one is her, right?"

"It's impossible to tell." Admitted Willow. "The spell is too general."

"But not if we use it in combination with all the other intel we have coming in." Said Andrew excitedly.

"We have intel coming in?" Buffy asked, managing the makings of a smile. "Did we tap 007's cell-phone?"

"Angelus phoned Mr Giles this morning…"

"Angel." Buffy corrected.

"Sorry, anyway he phoned this morning to let us know that he's put together a surveillance team to uncover Faith's whereabouts. They'll leave no stone unturned in their quest to…"

"Okay, I get it; he's got his evil law firm on the case." Buffy cut him off.

"Exactly, so if we put the information Angel gives us with the locations on the map…" Andrew beamed.

"Fine," Buffy nodded. "That's you're job then Andrew. Let me know if it actually works."

* * *

Giles was approaching the end of his tether now; he'd forgotten just how trying teenagers could be. As they walked through a central Cleveland cemetery in the morning sunshine, he was remembering it fast.

Reece Highbury, son of a late high-ranking council member, was too busy flexing his muscles and flirting with Rona, Vi _and_ Alison to pay any attention to him.

Even Naomi and Anthony were deep in a conversation about mausoleum architecture, and those were the two he thought he could count on.

And as for…

"Will you boys stop that this instance!" Giles shouted over to Rajiv and Peter who were trying to pile drive each other into headstones. "Show some bloody respect."

Rajiv at least listened, wriggling away from the insufferable Jones boy and giving Giles a grin. "Sorry sir. Just high spirits; first day of the holiday and all that."

"Yes, well you must understand that this is a serious business." Giles, slightly mollified, gestured for them all to follow him again. "This is not a vacation. You are here to take up your sacred duty as Watchers. No one should consider this opportunity you have been given anything less than an honour and a privilege, and I expect you to treat it as such."

He looked down as he kicked some dirt off of his shoe. Looking back up, he fixed Reece Highbury with a fierce glare. "Am I making myself clear?"

From behind him came a rather loud shout of annoyance causing the Watcher to spin around at once.

Peter had young Anthony's glasses held high above the boy's head, taunting him as he jumped up to try and claim them back.

Giles was about to stalk back and reprimand Peter himself, but his mobile rang before he could. Turning instead to Naomi, he beseeched her with his eyes as he answered the phone.

"Rupert Giles."

"…"

"No I haven't heard anything from that area, but I suppose it's as good a place to start as any. US ninety-five, you said, where would she be heading on that road?"

"…"

"Yes, assuming she's heading for somewhere and isn't simply trying to get lost in the desert." Giles smiled slightly as Naomi took the glasses back by force when Peter wouldn't give them up readily.

"…"

"She didn't seem too upset this morning, although last night was a different story. I think Buffy is more intent on finding her in order to give her a good telling off, than for any hopes of a romantic reunion…"

"…"

"Well Angel, maybe she should have thought of that before running away!"

"…"

"I'm afraid I really don't have time to go over this again. Call me back when you find out anything else. Thank you."

Giles closed his phone and slipped it back in his pocket.

Well they had a lead then, a thin one possibly, but as he'd said to Angel, anything would do as a starting point.

* * *

The car she'd 'borrowed' had blown a tyre miles from anywhere and so Faith was hoofing it along another dusty old road, with her back-pack over one shoulder and absolutely no idea which direction she was heading in. She wasn't even sure if she was on a real road anymore.

Although annoyed at first, she figured it probably wasn't a bad idea to not hang onto the car too long, after all someone had to have picked that dude up by now, making the car too recognisable for someone on the run.

On the run?

She was out, all legit or whatever. The only people she was running from were her friends. Friends? Damn even that sounded weird to her.

Did Buffy know yet?

She must do by now. It had been over twenty-four hours since Faith had skipped out on the Watchers. Giles couldn't have kept it from her for that long. What was Buffy thinking? Was she mad, upset or indifferent?

Faith scuffed her feet in the dust as she trailed along. She must have been in the quietest part of America that there was. She had seen no cars and no people since she'd barrelled into some road side desert scrub at sixty miles an hour about two hours ago. In fact she was starting to think she wasn't even on Earth any more. Wasn't the planet supposed to be overpopulated?

Back when she'd lived with her Mom in Boston, there'd been a family living in the apartment below them with seven kids. Seven! All ages; from the diaper shittin' stage to gawky, sweaty palmed teens. Nine people living in a three room apartment with a bathroom the size of most wardrobes. Why the hell hadn't they come and lived out here?

She was pretty sure she was in Utah, though, judging from the signs she'd seen earlier in the day and she was even surer that if she didn't get her hands on something cool and refreshing in the next thirty minutes, she was going to collapse on the road and die like a dog.

At least the sun had dropped below the horizon now; the darkness was a damn sight cooler than the baking sun had been. And it wasn't like she needed to see to walk across a whole lot of nothing.

"Ow what the …?" Faith cursed as she walked straight into a fence.

Stepping back she gave it a once over. Simple wooden fence, nothing special about the construct except the fact that it was out here in the middle of nowhere. Hopefully that meant so were people.

With no deliberation she jumped over it and set off again.

Five minutes later she heard it. A high pitched noise coming from somewhere in the darkness in front of her.

Faith stopped and wondered what kind of demon she'd run into and whether it could be killed with bare hands or a stake because that was all she had.

It came again, louder this time and followed by two or three more, which meant either this thing had three heads or there were three of them. There it was again, behind her. Just what had she walked into?

Something big charged past her and Faith instinctively dove to the side as hooves thumped by.

Hooves. What demons did she know that had hooves?

She scrambled back up as another shape tore past a foot to her left and she spun to get a better look but was too slow.

Didn't the devil have hooves, or was that trotters?

Raised human voices floated her way out of the darkness.

"Over there! No Arnold you useless…Go the other way!"

"Dad! It doesn't matter which way we go, there's nothing here."

It was two men shouting at each other. Great, there were people out here too. Like she was in the mood to do rescuing.

"Of course there's something here. Why else would the horses be all of a dither."

Horses? Faith started laughing as she realised what had scared the crap out of her moments ago. Demon's on the brain, of course it was horses. She'd passed a few ranches already that day. Mostly riding schools and summer camps. She'd obviously stumbled on another.

"Well there was nothing here last night or the night before, what makes you think tonight is going to be any different."

"Son, just be quiet and keep looking."

The two men were getting closer and Faith could see the beam of a flashlight playing over the ground. She was about to step up and introduce herself and ask for a glass of water, when another horse made an annoyed harrumphing noise right behind her making her jump and spin around.

"Jesus!" She muttered as her heart slowed to normal pace and then she muttered it again when the flash light beam came up to shine in her face.

"What the hell are you doing on my land?"

"Um, shortcut." Faith told the guy honestly.

The light went up and down her body once. "Short cut to what, there's nothing out here for miles."

Faith could make out nothing of the man addressing her, except he sounded pretty pissed off. "I'm, uh, heading for town."

The beam shone in her eyes but she didn't look away.

"That's thirty miles away, you expect me to believe a young lass like you is walking around the desert in the dead of night and you ain't up to know good?"

Faith stayed silent, letting the jerk think what he wanted, until she heard the snick-click of a gun being cocked. "Hey, it's the truth, why the hell else would I be out here."

The other man, who might have been the gun-toter's son, spoke up. "Maybe she is telling the truth, dad. She sure doesn't look like a horse thief."

"And you don't look as dumb as you are Arnie. Just because she's pretty doesn't mean she's all sweet and innocent."

'_Ain't that the truth,' _thought Faith.

Arnie laughed, obviously not offended by the way his pop talked to him. "So what Dad, are you going to shoot her on the spot."

Faith started backing up. She had no plans on getting shot tonight or any other night, and certainly not when she hadn't done anything.

"Hey, stay where you are." She stopped inching back. "Put your hands on your head."

"For Christ's sake, I only wanted a glass of water." She moaned, but did as he instructed.

"Yeah right. Where's the rest of your people?" The old guy shone the torch behind her and around. "I know you're not here alone."

"Actually I am."

"An entrepreneur, huh?" That was the younger one, Arnie, and he sounded impressed. Faith rolled her eyes.

"Well, lets get you back to the house." The old man waved her past him. "You can have your glass of water while I telephone the police."

"But I didn't…"

"Save it! I'm sick of people thinking they can wander onto my land and upset my horses. Once I could consider a mistake, but every night? No, the games up missy, so just come along quietly…"

They were moving across the field now and the old man with the flash light was behind her and Arnie was to her left. The son was one hell of a muffin and they were checking each other out in the beam and liking what they saw, when something, not quite a sound and not quite a movement caught Faith's attention.

Her head snapped up to look into the night and what she saw made her take a step back, despite the rifle back there.

Eight horses were galloping towards them. All of them were milky-grey in colour and weren't all that big, but they looked pretty solid and they were coming straight at them.

"What's got into them now?" The old guy sounded confused, like he'd cut the red wire but the bomb was still ticking.

"Dad, they ain't ours." Arnie was back stepping hurriedly and he was waving for Faith to do the same.

"Don't be daft of course they're o…"

Arnie wasn't listening. "Get out of the way." He yelled diving to one side as the lead horse drew too close to stop in time.

Faith blinked as hooves thundered on the hard packed earth and she took a step back as cold breath snorted into her face. She staggered back another step when her body was hit with a bucket of coldness and suddenly she was staring at the horse's tail, but it hadn't turned around!

Another three of the eight horses passed through her before they were gone.

Taking a few deep breaths, the brunette steadied herself before turning around. Arnie was sprawled where his jump had landed him staring at her in awe. The old man was on his knees staring back towards the boundary fence, where, if you squinted in just the right way, you could make out a group of ghostly pale shapes.

"So," Faith flipped her hair out of her face and put her hands on her hips, "I think I know why you're horses are always so jumpy."

* * *

A match flared with a cold blue flame and flickered in the absolute darkness of the woodshed.

After a little clinking and clanking it was touched to a wick inside an old fashioned gas lamp, the wick caught and the light grew brighter inside the dusty glass of the lamp.

"On threee laads!" Came Mawther's great voice.

Several pixies could be heard chanting:

_Onen, deu, try aan drehevel!_

The gas lamp slowly floated into the darkness as the pixies hoisted it to the low ceiling, where it dangled and caused flickering monstrous shadows to dance and play across the walls.

As soon as the swinging settled down the pixies came together in the centre of the floor.

"Mawther, what iss tow bee done? The biggars gow baak on thar ger."

"I knaw Timsaw, I knaw." Beryan, Mawther of the clan, agreed.

"Wee caan't let they'm taak baak oor laaan!" Insisted another.

"Wee wan't, Daveth, nawt agin." She assured. Her own accent was thicker than usual due to her uneasy mood, but she hoped her brethren wouldn't pick up on it.

"Wee neead to ryse aginst they'm, Mawther." Said a third.

At this all the pixies present seemed to break into angry arguments amongst themselves, the small, clear voices rising higher and higher as they all sought to be heard.

It took the Mawther three attempts to quiet them down and in the end only a flash of raw magic shooting from her fingertips into the centre of the crowd hushed them enough for her voice to be heard.

"Wee will nawt aact beefoor wee aave moore proof, yow muste aall staay awn yaw gaard, but doo nawt aact! Leeve uss naw, the wyse consel muss conveene."

Many of the pixies nodded respectfully to Mawther before filing out of the shed from various hidden exits. Soon only three remained: Mawther and her two most trusted lieutenants.

"Let uss sit." Said the seven inch high leader.

All three sat cross-legged on the woodshed floor in a circle.

"Whaat would yow aave uss do?" Mawther asked.

"Daveth waas right. Wee caan nawt let the biggars taak oor laand agin, Beryan!"

"I aave naw intentions of giiving uup oor ground, Yestin…"

She was cut off by the other elder speaking:

"Beryan if yow will excuse my interruption, wee shoould nawt aact until wee knaw aal tha faacts. Wee do nawt naw thaat the interlopers meen uss enie haarm."

The Mawther nodded her head. "Yaw aare very wyse, dai Caden. Haw doo yaw thiink wee shoould find owt?"

"Observation, Beryan." He said with a nod of his own head.

"But wee caan nawt bee cawt un-preepared, Beryan. Experience haas tawt uss thaat wen a biggar decides tow turn, thay turn faast!" Yestin reminded her.

The leader of the Crow-an-wragh clan bowed her head and placed her palms together before her tiny purple nose.

At length she looked back at her friends. "Yestin, preepare the clan for a biggar incursion, but keeep they'r angers burning low. I waant they'm redy, but nawt dundle-heads. Caden, git Ogrek to assemble scowtin teams, wee mus knaw whaat iss goen on." She touched a purple fingertip to the forehead of both of her comrades. "Begin now, and let tha golok of Erysiaana be with you."

Both Yestin and Cadin kept their heads bowed for several long seconds while the spirit of the Goddess Erysiaana was invoked, and then as one they turned and left the woodshed leaving the leader alone.

She gazed upwards to watch a fat moth fluttering around the gas lamp high above her head, while she sought her own cause of action. Despite differing opinions, her lieutenants were right, something must be done to curtail any hope of history repeating itself.

Beryan remembered well the war that had broken out when the Watcher's first decided they know longer needed the help and guidance of their long time Piskie allies. Her Grandmother had been Mawther then, and a strong and wise leader if ever there was one, but she'd let the sacred oaths sworn centuries before dictate her reactions to the sudden hostility and her loyalty and civility had been the clans downfall.

Beryan had always lived by the sacred oaths herself, it was the way she had been taught to hold her head up high and prove she was better than any Biggar, but…

The seven inch purple beauty held her arm high in the air and clicked her fingers. The lamps flame extinguished itself with a hiss.

…but Beryan wasn't sure she would follow in her Grandmother's footsteps should all out war break once again. In the last year or so that the camp had been at first abandoned and then occupied by the Slayers, life had been good again for the Crows-au-wragh clan. She wasn't prepared to give up on that without a fight.

She slowly left the woodshed for her own quarters under the main house, still pondering the issue.

"I aave tow speaak tow jus' Buffee." She decided at length.

* * *

_To be continued..._

**Remember:**Feedback builds healthy teeth and bones!


	5. Act 3 con't

_Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter. Here's the next part of Act 3._

__

_**Thursday.**_

Faith crawled out of the ripped green sleeping bag and stretched.

The kitchen floor was not exactly comfortable, but at least last night she hadn't had to worry about being eaten by coyotes, or spending half her money on a room.

She was still blinking the sleep from her eyes, looking around the spacey kitchen and idly wondering if there was anything valuable in here that the Jackson's wouldn't miss too soon, when Mrs Jackson entered the kitchen.

"Hello dear, did you sleep okay?" She was a small woman with grey hair high in a bun which made her look older than she must have been. She bustled around Faith now as she set about making breakfast. "I'd have offered you a bed, but with Arnie's business venture falling through he's had to move back home for a while."

"That's okay, Mrs J, I was fine." Faith pulled out her most heart-winning smile, hoping to get breakfast out of her. "It was real nice of you to let me stay the night."

"Well, after you helped us out so kindly with our little spook problem, it was the least we could do."

"No sweat. Rounding up the ghost horses was kinda fun actually. I never had a chance to ride a horse before." She delightedly accepted a hot cup of coffee from the tiny woman.

"Well you wouldn't have known it to look at you." Mrs Jackson assured her as she prepared bacon omelettes. "You must be a natural. Not that there is much else natural about ghost horses." She gave a light chuckle. "Fancy that. We were starting to regret buying this place when the horses were acting so nervy all the time. Who would have guessed it was because they were sharing their corral with a herd of ghosts." She motioned for Faith to take a seat at the table

Faith took the seat and shrugged. "I kinda got a sixth sense for these things."

That hadn't stopped it freaking her out when a huge damn hoss had galloped right through her; leaving her goosepimply.

"Well it's lucky for us that Mr Jackson caught you taking a short cut through the corral."

"Yeah."

That had actually been the least favourite part of the night for Faith. Walking for six hours in the middle of nowhere because the car had burst a tyre and then being mistaken for a horse thief and marched to the house at gun point so that the owner could phone the police had not been fun.

Mrs Jackson put a full plate in front of her and she let the incident go with a smile and tucked in.

"We know now why the asking price on this place was so low." Mrs Jackson chuckled preparing more plates of food for the rest of her family. "I can't believe the real estate man didn't tell us we had ghosts."

Faith just nodded and chewed, although she thought that maybe the name of this dry, dusty place might have been a clue. Why the hell else would you call a place Dead Horse Point?

"Well, Mom, then you wouldn't have brought it, would you?" A tallblonde_, really_ good looking guy came into the sunlit kitchen and took the plate Mrs Jackson was holding out and sat opposite Faith. "Morning Faith, was the floor okay for you?" When his Mom went to the other side of the kitchen for more milk he lowered his voice. "Y'know, my bed would have been big enough for the both of us." He winked and forked eggs into his mouth.

Faith grinned back and shook her head. "I told ya, Arnie, you're not my type, at least, not at the moment." She winked back.

"Well you can take my number when you leave and get back to me when the moment changes." He replied easily.

"Nah, it wouldn't be fair to all the other women in Utah to leave you waiting for me." She finished her breakfast and sat back, her tummy satisfied. That would have to be enough for now.

"Why? I wasn't planning on waiting alone." He smirked.

She laughed. "Touché dude."

Mrs Jackson came back over and Mr Jackson came into the kitchen for his breakfast and Arnie changed the subject.

"So you're really planning on riding one of them ghost horses all the way to Green River?"

Faith nodded. "Yeah, why not, it'll be fun."

The previous night after she had gotten all the equine ghosts in a loose herd she'd driven them out of the corral and off the property with Mr Jackson's help. It was only on returning that Faith sensed another big, snorting, see-through beast scaring the crap out of the flesh and blood ones. The Slayer had decided to keep it and use it for the next leg of her journey.

"How do you know it won't just leave and go after its buddies?" Arnie asked.

"The corral gate is locked up tight, son." Mr Jackson pointed out.

"It's a ghost, dad; it could run through the gate."

Mr Jackson was having a hard time believing there were ghosts of any kind anywhere, but he could not dismiss what his own eyes had strained to witness. With a muttered "I guess," he went back to eating.

Mrs Jackson looked around from the stove. "Well if the horse can go through solid wood, aren't you a little worried that you might go through the horse? How are you going to sit on it?"

"It can stay corporeal when it feels like it, least it did last night when I had a little practice run." Faith looked around, figuring it was probably time to saddle up already, where had she put her bag.

Getting up from the table, she found it against the wall. "Well thanks for letting me stay the night, but it's time me and Silver hit the trail."

Mr Jackson looked up. "Are you sure you don't want a ride. Arnie could give you a lift as far as the city. Green River is over thirty miles away. That's a long hack for someone new to riding."

Faith looked Arnie up and down and pondered the offer. Arnie looked back at her with a smirk. Nah, it was better to walk away from the temptation. Riding a ghost horse was gonna do her a lot more good than riding the hunky stable boy in his car.

"Thanks, but I'm looking forward to it." She finally replied.

"Well thanks for what you did, and sorry about the misunderstanding last night." Mr Jackson went on.

"No worries, thanks for the feed." Faith left the kitchen and made her way through the house to the door. Mrs Jackson and Arnie followed her out into the hot day.

Going to the edge of the corral, Faith squinted and concentrated until she made out the indistinct, milky form of the ghost horse. Jumping the fence she made her way to it and stopped. Now what? After a minute of thinking about it and knowing her hosts were watching to see what she would do, she waved her arms up and down and said "shoo!" in a loud voice.

The translucent horse looked over his flank at her and snorted.

She repeated her movements and it slowly began to walk away.

Finally she got it out of the corral and wondered about putting a saddle on it, but she didn't want to ask the Jackson's for one. They were probably pretty expensive, being made of leather and all. Bare back wouldn't be too bad anyway.

"Okay Silver," she muttered, "you ready for this?"

She patted his side to make sure he was nice and solid and then jumped up. She got a leg over his back just as Arnie came back from fetching her some reins, so he was just in time to almost die laughing when the horse faded out and Faith hit the dust at his feet.

"Shit!"

* * *

The sun was streaming into the barn and landing fully on Craig's face as he opened his eyes. A Pixie watched from the window sill as he blinked once or twice before lifting his arm to look at his watch.

Getting out of bed, he dressed quickly and left the dormitory without looking at any of the other boys.

Peter rolled over to face Reece's bed. "That's every morning he's done this disappearing act." He noted.

"Good. I don't want to look at his ugly mug over breakfast anyway." Reece sniffed. "And the more he slacks off, the less chance there is of him getting a place."

Their voices awoke Rajiv, who sat up scratching his head and looking for his cigarettes. "Dunno why he got picked anyway. His family en't exactly all that, are they, his dad's in bleedin' prison."

"It's not a prison, it's a nut house." Peter corrected.

"High security mental wing of a prison." Reece re-corrected impatiently, getting out of bed. "The little twerp's here because Ramstock's a soft git with more money than sense." He began getting dressed.

"Yeah, but you wouldn't say that in front of him would you?" Rajiv challenged with a grin.

Reece smiled. "No, which proves that I have just as much sense as I have money. Come on, let's get breakfast. Old man Rupes will be impressed if we're up at the crack of dawn." The tall blonde looked back through the door to Peter who was still pulling on clothes. "Wake Miley will you?"

Peter slipped into his trainers and walked to the edge of the end bed. Grabbing the mattress he lifted it sharply and smiled with satisfaction at the loud thump and muffled 'ouch' he caused.

After the voices had faded, Anthony Milestone rolled over in his bundle of blankets and fumbled blindly for his glasses. They were under his ear. "I should just sleep on the floor." He grumbled to himself.

The Pixie frowned at the grumbling Biggar, jumped to the ground and disappeared.

* * *

"Look what I found." Buffy put the newspaper down on the kitchen table, opened at a page about half-way through.

Giles pulled the paper towards him and began to read the article.

"Guys can you at least wait for me to clear up breakfast before you start a meeting." Andrew whined from behind Xander's chair. "You know you only get annoyed when I have to wipe around you."

"Andrew, do be quiet." Giles passed the paper to Willow and looked to Buffy. "Are you sure it's her?"

Xander and Kennedy both looked over Willow's shoulder to see the headline:

**SALES REP RAPIST SOLD SOME OF HIS OWN MEDICENE**

"Huh?" Xander took his seat back on the other side of the table. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Willow began to read the smaller print:

"_Hans Sheederstene was picked up early this morning by the Nevada Highway Patrol and is now in police custody. Sheederstene, wanted for five separate charges of rape and at least seven attempted rapes in California, Nevada and Oregon was found limping, pant-less, down the side of Highway 50._

_Highway patrol called for support knowing that Sheederstene has evaded capture on three previous occasions, but it was unnecessary as the man willingly gave himself up._

_One eye-witness source reports that the serial sex offender was babbling incoherently about a "freaky-superbitch" taking his pants and stealing his car. Police believe this was probably down to dehydration and a night spent in the elements._

_Our source said of the babble. "Aye, the desert can grab you at night and draw you in. Make you believe in all sorts of things that can't be true. Dunno what happened to his pants though, maybe the lab-Aliens forgot to give them back."_

_Mr Sheederstone is under police guard at All Our Angel's in Reno and once he is fully recovered will be brought to L.A. to stand trial._"

Willow put the newspaper on the table.

Xander scratched his chin. "What are Labaliens?"

"There's a dash. Lab dash aliens." Willow pointed at it..

Xander chuckled. "Oh."

"Can we be sure it's her?" Kennedy asked, she was gently stroking along the edge of Willow's ear and seemed fascinated with it. It was making Willow giggle. She shook her head playfully to dislodge her fingers, but Kennedy was insistent.

"It's her. How many other freaky super bitches are there out there?" Buffy said and she almost smiled.

Kennedy took her attention from the red-head's ear long enough to smirk at her. "Well since May - who the hell knows?"

Buffy groaned. "You have a point, but I still think it's her."

Willow stood from the table. "Well I'll get the ingredients we need for another one, see if we can find her anywhere near Reno, but don't be surprised if I just get another scared little girl wondering how she managed to break the handles off her bicycle. With out anything personal of Faith's it makes it all very hit and miss."

Buffy sighed, already knowing that. The only thing she'd ever had of Faith's had been the knife she'd stabbed her with and that had gone down with the rest of Sunnydale.

* * *

"So obviously magic isn't working, think it might be time to try a different tack." Kennedy asked, as she fastened paper demons onto the upright wooden slats Xander had forced into the training field earth.

Willow's latest spell had offered the same results as the previous ones, which meant lots, but they still didn't know which one might be Faith. Even Angel's information didn't narrow it down a whole lot, this morning three dots had appeared in Nevada alone and there was no saying that Faith was staying put anyway.

"What do you suggest?" Buffy didn't look over as she completed the same task a little further up the field.

"I don't know," Kennedy admitted. "Maybe we can put something on the web, offer a reward for information."

Xander stopped pounding wooden slats into the ground with his sledgehammer and picked his shirt up from the ground to wipe the sweat from his face. "Yeah and the next thing you know we have a bunch of bounty hunters suing us for medical expenses."

Buffy walked over to him and stuck a life-sized paper vampire on the slat. "Well I suppose we could follow the trail of broken bones until we found her, but I have a feeling the police might wanna get involved in that particular scavenger hunt too."

Xander stepped back to get a good look at the picture. "Who _drew_ these?"

Kennedy hung up her last cut-out further down the field and came to join them. "Dawn had the watcher-wannabe's doing them last night; apparently it was a test in demon anatomy."

All three looked around them at the scattered drawings fluttering in the light breeze.

"I'm assuming they all failed." Chuckled Buffy.

"Well we are talking demon's Buff, maybe they all passed." Xander motioned to a few of the bad demon depictions. "I mean that one looks like a…" He frowned as he tried to remember the name of, well any demon at all.

"They've all got heads and bodies, sort of," said Kennedy, shrugging. "That's all they need to be target practice."

"Are we really sure it's a good idea to give those kids projectile weapons?" Xander turned his head to look at one woman and then the other. "Bearing in mind none of them has in-built Slayer accuracy or, you know, any common sense that we've noticed."

"Hell no," said Kennedy quickly.

"Definitely not," Buffy agreed.

Xander nodded. "So anyone feel like going into town and leaving Giles to fend for himself?"

"Great plan." Buffy set off back to the house.

"Let's get Willow on the way." Kennedy fell into step beside the Scooby duo.

* * *

Craig hadn't been able to get out of that afternoon's training exercise with Mr Giles, as much as he'd racked his brains to come up with something. He was doing his best to keep out of the old Watcher's line of sight and he was being unwittingly helped by Peter's antics.

The idiot though it was funny to chase Anthony about with a crossbow pointed at his arse. Anthony thought it was less funny and Mr Giles was busy yelling at the pair of them.

Standing on the far side of the training field, with Naomi between him and the commotion, he felt safe enough to just aim at his target, whatever the hell it was supposed to be, in peace.

He pulled the string of his cumbersome bow back, held it taut while he sighted on the presumed face of the ogre tacked to the wooden pole, and let fly.

Craig's sharp eyes widened as he saw the arrow point pierce the paper between the cut-out's eyes.

"Yes!" He leapt into the air, pumping his bow above him as he let out a jubilant whoop.

Seeing the old boy suddenly turn in his direction to see what this latest fuss was about, Craig dropped to one knee and busied himself with his already neatly tied shoe-lace.

Naomi, having missed her mark by a good three inches, jumped up and down excitedly, waving her arms and whooping in feigned delight.

"Naomi, I assume that you are aware the goal is to actually hit the target?" Asked Mr Giles with a tiny smile.

Naomi calmed down and smiled pleasantly as the other assembled trainee's laughed at her. "Sorry, sir," said the normally demure English girl. "I must have become caught up in the moment, shall I try again?"

"Yes, please do." The Watcher chuckled and turned back to cuff Peter on the back of the head.

Craig stood up again, looking sheepish when Naomi turned to glare at him.

"Sorry." He whispered with a grin.

"You owe me." She muttered back, smiling.

* * *

This was the way to travel! The heat was enough to bake a cake, but with the wind rushing past at such high speeds it wasn't a big deal.

After the ghost horse thing had fallen through, literally, Arnie had offered her one of his cheaper motorcycles to use. Apparently he had a ton of them. It was a thank you for helping them out, but it was also more than that. He owed her one of hell of an apology. On her third or fourth attempt at riding Silver, the horse had remained sturdy, but refused to move. Arnie had tried to help Faith out by giving Silver an almighty slap on the ass. The horse had bolted straight through the tall fence, Faith, who couldn't make herself incorporeal when she needed to, only just escaped serious injury.

The bike bribe was the only thing that kept his pretty face from being bruised.

Faith pulled back on the throttle just a little, assessing the interchange she was approaching. Seeing it clear enough, she gunned the engine and the red and black Fire blade shot onto I-80. Then it was just her and open road again.

There was still plenty of hours of daylight left and she'd gassed up just outside Denver so there was nothing to stop her or slow her down.

She could keep riding this way forever. For the first time since getting out she was truly celebrating her freedom. She'd always felt more comfortable on the road than staying in one place. Maybe this is what she would do. Just keep on going. Hell, she probably could get all the way to New Zealand if she sussed out the freighter situation careful enough. Arnie might want his bike back someday, but he didn't give her a time limit, and so what anyway. She was still a little pissed at him for damaging her pride and her ass. She might not actually steal it from him, but it sure would be funny to make him pay to have it shipped back from the other side of the world.

And maybe ten thousand miles might be enough distance to get her head together.

And maybe it wouldn't.

Urging the Fire blade up to even greater speeds, Faith left that question for another time and enjoyed her freedom.

* * *

They'd spent a nice couple of hours away from the camp.

First they'd headed to the general store to pick up a few extra things for dinner.

While Xander and Kennedy browsed through the lack-of-variety on offer, Buffy had followed an embarrassed Willow to the front counter to speak to the old shop keeper, Owen.

Buffy had never had much to do with him, but on the few occasions that his name came up Buffy had a definite vibe that Giles didn't think much of him. She hadn't found the opportunity to mention it to him yet, and nothing had happened to force the issue. For all Buffy knew the shopkeeper who had just short-changed her Watcher.

That aside, Buffy was still a little more alert around him these days than she was most shop assistants, but it was more a subconscious thing than anything she purposely set out to do.

"Uh, sir, this might sound like a stupid question, but…" Willow began.

"I'm sure it's not Miss, now what I can I do for you?" Owen asked when her friend paused mid-question.

"Well the thing is we sort of, well I sort of, lost some…"

"We lost some chickens." Buffy's patience ran out quickly these days. "Half a dozen of them. We were just wondering if anyone has seen them… anywhere?" This was a conversation she'd never imagined having. It kinda made her nostalgic for Riley, even though she could never remember him making any big statements concerning poultry.

"You lost some chickens?"

It sounded to Buffy's ears that the question was meant to be sarcastic, but the look of surprise on the old man's face was confusing. It was like he was less surprised than he should have been. Buffy couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Uh yes," Willow piped up again while Buffy studied the man carefully. "They were Buckeyes, kind of a red colour."

Owen scratched his chin a little. "Good birds them, so they just wandered off?"

There was that glint in his eyes again, like this conversation was pulling strings in his mind. Buffy's eyes narrowed.

"Not exactly, no." Willow chuckled nervously. "More that they…"

"Because they can wander off you know, Buckeyes can be pretty adventurous." The glint was gone and back was the talkative old shop keeper. "Hardy too. Good birds, like I said; and local."

"So you haven't seen them?" Buffy checked.

He shook his head with a smile. "'Fraid not, Miss, but if I do, I'll send them right back to you."

"Thanks." Willow smiled back, and Xander and Kennedy brought the overflowing basket up to the counter to be checked out.

Buffy stepped back out of the way, still watching Owen and wondering why he was lying.

After they left the store they went to the livestock shop so that Willow could ask there about the chickens too, but no one had seen them and Buffy didn't feel anything off about anyone's attitude either. The owner offered to put up a notice in the window asking anyone with any information on the missing chickens to contact them up at the camp.

This brought up the Faith situation again, much to Buffy's dismay, and it was still being discussed as they sat down to cheeseburgers in The Mouth diner.

""If you want to post something on the net then go for it." Buffy fiddled with her fries as she talked. "I just think Xander is right on this one. Not that you aren't usually right, you know, to some degree," she added quickly.

"What?" Xander realised he was being spoken too and quickly swallowed his mouthful of burger to respond.

"I was just saying that putting something on the internet saying we're looking for Faith is asking for trouble." Buffy clarified as she looked inside her burger to pick out the pickle, she dropped it on the side of her plate and closed her burger back up, but still didn't take a bite.

"Even if it didn't cause trouble in the traditional sense it would more than likely get us hundreds if not thousands of responses, especially if we offer a reward. I think it would just confuse things even more." Agreed Willow.

"Well what then?" Kennedy asked, easily exasperated by the subject. "How about sky-writing "Faith you maggot, come home so Buffy can kick your fricken ass!" in pink across the Nevada sky?"

"Not really much of an incentive." Xander mused. "What with the threat of ass-kickage. Change it to ass-_kissing_ and you might be on to a winner."

"Yeah but then _I'd_ sue you for slander." Buffy deadpanned. "If there is any ass-kissing being done when she gets back, it'll be her doing it, that I promise you!" She vowed before taking a big determined bite of her cheeseburger.

Her friends were staring at her, all smiling faintly.

She wiped grease from her lips and looked back. "What?

* * *

The sun was heading back down; making long shadows of the trees and weird rocky pillar things that kept sprouting up as the bike coasted to a stop on the side of the highway.

"Damn!" Faith swung her leg off and fixed the stand so she could let go of the bike. "Damn."

She took off the black helmet Arnie had also leant her and peered at the bikes digital dashboard display. Tapping it a few times changed nothing. According to the reading she was out of gas.

"Really shoulda checked that thing more." She mused.

* * *

They'd picked up Dawn from school after their burgers and the five of them arrived back at the camp in high spirits, even Buffy herself.

It was hard not to smile when Kennedy and Dawn were doing their incessant banter routines, and chuck Xander in the middle of it and it was a giggle fest for all.

Buffy was surprised at herself though, for feeling the way she was. She was still upset of course, and there were still a thousand questions buzzing through her mind, but the big one, the _fundamental_ one had been answered on Tuesday night.

_No, Faith didn't love her._

It was as simple as that. Because if Faith did love her, then she would be here at the camp, right now. Not off where-ever she was doing whatever she was doing. See, simple.

And a weight had been lifted with that knowledge. Not a huge weight, not the whole thing, but enough for Buffy to get a little perspective. Enough for her to stop wanting to cry or fight all the time.

And so, well she wasn't happy, but she felt she was on the road to happiness, somewhere along the miles and miles of the lonely desert highway that was her life was a place called happiness and she was on her way to it, yes sirree!

As she climbed out of the car after Xander she poked him in the shoulder.

"What?"

"No more country music for a while, okay?"

He turned, smiling, obviously about to ask why, when a hissed: "Buffee!" Came from a shadowed corner of the garage.

Everyone looked around them for the source. Buffy's sharper ears drew her to one particular corner.

"Elowen?" She asked. It was the only Pixie she'd had much to do with.

The leader of the clan stepped out from behind a wheel of the big jeep. "Naw, it iss Beryan. Ay musst speaak tow yow alown."

"Okay." Buffy stepped forward and everyone else crowded behind her.

Beryan gave everyone but Willow suspicious looks. "Alown!" She reiterated.

"Oh alone! I get it." Buffy shooed her friends away. "Go take the food into Andrew; I'm sure this won't take a minute."

Beryan waited for everyone to leave before she beckoned Buffy down to her level, as in floor level.

Buffy looked down at the oily, dusty floor of the garage and wrinkled her nose, her pants were not sitting on that floor and so neither was she.

Beryan must have realised what Buffy's hesitation was; she rolled her tiny lavender eyes and with a sigh of impatience leapt up and grabbed the jeep's bull bars. She went up them like a ladder until she could sit on the top-most bar.

"Ay waant tow knaw why yow braak yow'r promyses?"

"Excuse me?" Buffy asked with a frown.

"Ay waant…" The Pixie leader began to repeat her sentence more slowly.

"No I understood you," Buffy interrupted. "I just don't know what you mean. What promise did we break?"

"Tha Waachoors, yow braang they'm heere! Yow knaw whaat thay diid tow uss!"

"Okay, Beryan, slow down." Buffy held her finger up. "You mean the trainees, they're just kids, they won't even be here that long. No one is going back on any agreement. Just keep you're heads low, which shouldn't be a problem for you guys, and they'll be gone before you know it. " She grinned at the little leader.

Beryan shook her head in disgust and Buffy wondered what she'd done wrong now.

"Nawt oonlee dow yow nawt taak uss seriouslee, but naw yow maak merriement off uss tow."

The Mawther jumped down and was gone so fast that Buffy didn't even know which direction she had disappeared.

"But, no wait! That was just a joke, 'cause you're…short." She called after the vanished figure. It was no use, Beryan had disappeared. "Wow, I guess I'm not the only person around here with height issues." She chuckled at the little woman's behaviour as she left the garage and forgot about the exchange completely as Vi leaned out of the kitchen doorway with the telephone in her hand.

* * *

She'd just spent two hours pushing the heavy bike along the edge of the dirty highway and an hour with a greasy mechanic and Faith needed a drink, but first she had to make a phone call.

She pulled a slip of paper out the top pocket of her jacket and went to find the payphone. She tapped her foot while she waited for someone to answer. Eventually someone did.

"Hey Mrs Jackson; its me, Faith. Is your Arnold around?"

She heard the old lady shout for her son and exchanged a few pleasantries with her until Arnie took the receiver. His first concern was for the bike.

"It's fine. Well it's not fine. It needs a new front tyre, but that's all. I ran out of gas a few miles from Ogallala and had to push it the rest of the way on the side of the road. I guess something pierced it. I'm sorry dude, but I ain't got the money for a new tyre. Or more gas for that matter. The owner of the garage I'm in said he'd keep an eye on it for a couple of days, but it's gonna cost you fifty bucks for storage."

She shifted around so she could see the motel, bar and grill on the other side of the road. She wanted some of that. All of that. She hadn't had a single beer since getting out of the joint.

"I'm gonna be staying in the motel across the street tonight and when I go tomorrow I'll leave the keys in their safe. I'll pay for that. So you just gotta go over there to pick them up before you go to the garage for the bike. Okay? Cool, I gotta go. Oh and Arnie; it's a sweet ride – thanks."

She replaced the receiver, waved goodbye to the mechanic and hefted her bag back onto her shoulder. Right she was stuck here for the night. She might as well make the most of it.

* * *

Buffy put the phone down and rubbed her hot ear. Fifteen minutes of hellish conversation; it was hardly surprising her ear was hot.

Her friends had gathered around the kitchen table waiting for her to finish and fill in the blanks for them.

She sat down, her expression weary. "That was Faith's parole officer."

"We guessed, but why is he phoning here?" Xander asked immediately.

"Because _she's_ supposed to be here, lame brain." Willow nudged him. "What did he say, do you think he knows?"

"Actually it's a woman and no, she doesn't know, at least I don't think she does." Buffy paused. "Unless she was testing me to see if I would lie to her. Can I go to jail for that?"

"No." Xander casually assured her with a wave of his hand.

"I'm pretty sure you can." Willow countered firmly. "But I doubt it was a test. Giles mentioned something about there being a lot of contact in the first few months until they can assess just how well Faith is adjusting."

"Yeah well he could have told me about it or better yet been here to take the call himself." Buffy grumbled.

"So did they ring to say they wanna come and see her sooner?" Xander went to the fridge for a beer and got one for Buffy too. "Cause that would be a big red tick in the 'not good' column."

"Thanks." Buffy accepted her beer from him. "No she's still coming Monday, but she wanted to speak to her on the phone first, to say 'hi' I think."

"What did she say when you told her Faith wasn't here?" Willow frowned at her own lack of beverage and stole Xander's.

"Hey I thought you didn't approve of the drinking." Xander protested.

"That's when you're doing it," Willow grinned. "I have no problem with me doing it."

Grumbling half-heartedly, Xander got himself another.

"Well I told her she was out with Giles and that's why neither of them could come to the phone." Buffy sipped from her drink, musing over the phone call. "She seemed to believe me. She said she'd call back tomorrow." She shrugged.

"Well that's not good!" Xander was almost yelling as he pointed out the obvious.

"Gee, really Xan, why would you say that?" Buffy cut her eyes to the side, shaking her head and running a hand through her hair.

"So what are you going to do?" Asked Willow.

"The only thing I can do," Buffy toasted with her beer bottle. "Practise my Faith voice."

* * *

The motel tavern was dark and snug, in complete contrast to the sunny evening outside. Faith had finished a rack of ribs and a plate of curly fries about an hour before and she was nursing her third chaser when a sweet female voice broke into her thoughts.

"So why don't you tell me about him?"

Faith looked to her left.

"You talking to me?" She asked the complete stranger sliding onto the stool next to her.

The woman smiled at her. "Yeah, is that okay?"

Shrugging Faith downed the shot of Jack Daniels and took a swig of her beer. After she found out there were no rooms available in the motel, she'd decided to spend the money on getting wasted instead. She was celebrating her freedom _and_ hopefully getting drunk enough to sleep on one of the plastic lounger things they had by the tiny pool.

"Depends who you want me to tell you about?"

The woman ordered a drink before she answered. "Whatever guy it is that's got you sitting here drinking alone."

Faith turned on her stool, smirking. "Well for one she's not a guy."

The stranger held her gaze, untroubled. "And for two?"

Faith turned back to the bar, sipping some more of her beer. "She's not the reason I'm drinking alone."

"No?"

Faith shook her head.

"Then what is?"

"I am."

The woman looked down at her own drink for a few moments before clearing her throat. "This is probably going to sound really kooky, but I used to be a counsellor at this place called Kroakwood…" She paused as if waiting for that to ring a bell with Faith, when it obviously didn't she continued. "It's a correctional facility for teen offenders…"

Faith jumped off of her stool. "Just what are you implying?"

"Nothing, no, I just meant…" The other woman stood up quickly too, raising her palms to calm Faith down. "I wasn't implying anything; I was just giving you some background so you didn't think I was completely deranged when I offered you a friendly ear…"

"Did Angel send you?" Faith took in the stranger. Her own height, maybe a little taller, blonde hair, green eyes, pale skin, attractive. She wore a flowery skirt, with a white cotton blouse and an alice-band held her blonde hair back from her face. She wasn't anyone Faith could ever recall meeting in LA or Sunnydale.

"Nobody sent me! What's wrong?"

Faith hadn't even realised she'd been pacing until the woman touched her arm. She shrugged away. "Watcher's Council then?"

"What council?"

Faith wiped a hand across her mouth as her tired alcohol addled brain worked as fast as it could. "Look its okay, you can be honest about it, I'm not gonna run off again. The games up, I get that, its fine I'll deal."

A hot shower, another decent meal and a comfortable bed would certainly help with the dealing.

"Okay girl, I think you're beyond any help I can offer." The stranger reached out to touch her arm again real quick and then picked her handbag up from the bar and gave Faith a sad smile. "I hope you get better soon, really."

"I…" Faith asked the strangers back as the blonde left the tavern as fast as she could. "…What?"

She looked about her, still expecting to see a SWAT team heading her way. Nope, although the bar man was looking at her suspiciously.

Head-fuck.

"Can I get another drink?" She sat back on her stool again, going back to plan A as plan B had obviously been a figment of her imagination.

A beer was placed in front of her and Faith dug into her pocket for her money.

"Let me," came a husky voice from her right and a slender hand offered a ten-dollar bill to the barman. "And I'll have a Bloody Mary."

Faith looked at the owner of the voice and the hand and fought the urge to whistle in appreciation. The chick looked like Halle Berry. "Thanks, and did I by any chance wander into a chick bar without realising?" She asked with a light chuckle.

Faith had never had a problem hooking up in the most unlikely of places, and a bar wasn't somewhere she'd consider unlikely, but she normally had to do a bit more than just freak people out.

"No you just have a vibe. Mind if I join you?" The woman took out a cigarette case, opened it and offered one to Faith.

"Thanks. I should warn you though, that going by tonight's track record, I'll have you running off screaming within minutes."

The woman gave her a wicked deliberate once over, before meeting Faith's eyes again. "I think it's going to take a lot to scare me off tonight." She held a gold lighter up to the cigarette now dangling from Faith's mouth.

Faith inhaled to light it. "Is that right?"

The other woman smiled. "That's right."

Faith nodded, leaning back on her stool a little. Maybe she wasn't quite as ready to hand herself in as she thought. What better way to celebrate her freedom than by having a chick this hot buying her free drinks all night? And maybe if Faith played her cards right there were other advantages to be had, as well.

"So, I suppose you've got a motel room all of your very own?" Faith wondered out loud.

"Want to see it?" The woman raised an eyebrow and blew a seductive smoke ring Faith's way.

Faith laughed. "Maybe later."

_tbc..._


	6. Act 3 Friday

_Friday_

Faith woke up feeling like her head was gonna explode.

As soon as she realised that it wasn't a dream and her head really was about to explode, she sluggishly lifted her hands to hold it, trying desperately to drown out the loud rumbling going on inside.

Her whole body was vibrating too, making her about ready to hurl.

What the hell was going on?

* * *

"Right everyone, gather round." Giles called out. 

Everyone in the backyard did as he bid, something that didn't happen very often. Maybe he was finally getting through to them.

"Okay, so we'll be going in the truck to Cleveland today, because as you know we're still waiting for the mechanic to come out and assess the extent of the damage to the minibus."

He looked pointedly at Peter Jones.

"What? I said I'm sorry." Peter scowled.

"Actually as a matter of fact you haven't." Anthony Milestone piped up.

"Maybe I did it during one of the three seconds of the day when you're not in my face." Peter responded cruelly.

"Rest assured I have no desire…"

"Okay, okay, let's not waste time going over it again." Buffy interrupted them. "The bus has gone fluie and we have to deal. Let's just get on with it. Giles is driving and Naomi and I are sitting up front with him. All the boys will fit in the back."

Giles noticed she was looking about them, puzzled. "What is it Buffy?"

"Is someone missing?"

No one said a word in answer, but he noticed a strange look on Naomi's face that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

It was Reece who finally answered. "No, we're all here. Shall we make a move?"

Buffy shrugged and headed towards the truck. Giles sighed wearily, waving for everyone to follow.

* * *

Craig watched out of the boy's dormitory window as the truck pulled around the side of the house and disappeared. As he started to walk out the door he saw Andrew walking from the garage to a wood and brick building further back. He was carrying a tool box whistling a flat tune to himself. Craig smiled. 

Once the tall blonde lad was out of sight Craig chanced leaving the dorm and darted up to the back door of the house. He was dying for a drink and while the house was quiet he was hoping to get a look inside Ms Rosenburg's magic room too.

He poked his head halfway through the door. Seeing no sign of life, his confidence grew and he walked boldly inside and up to the fridge. As he swung the door open looking for milk a sharp voice from behind made him jump and spin around.

It was one of the Slayers. Ms Rosenburg's girlfriend, if Craig had sussed it out right.

"I said: What are you doing sneaking around?" She repeated.

"I wasn't sneaking; I just wanted a glass of milk." He defended himself.

Willow poked her head around the magic room door. "Oh Craig, hi it's you, how you doing? Hang on…" Sharp green eyes pinned him to the spot and he scratched the back of his head, trying to act nonchalant. "Aren't you supposed to be on your way to the library in Cleveland so you can search non-demonic history books for evidence of demons in history?"

"Am I?" He tried.

Willow came out of her magic room completely now, carrying a large box which Kennedy immediately took from her. "Oh Craig, don't tell me you missed the bus again. Giles is a stickler for punctuality, and so far your score sheet is not looking all that impressive." She gently chided him.

"Wouldn't worry about that." Craig muttered to himself, a little amused.

"What was that?" Asked Kennedy.

"Okay, you caught me." He grinned at them both. "I'm skiving. It's just, it's a beautiful day an' all, I didn't fancy spending it cooped up in a dark library – that's what rainy days are for."

Willow wasn't letting up. "Craig you don't seem to be taking this all very seriously."

"No I am." He assured them, his attention more on the wide open door of the magic room.

Neither woman seemed in any hurry to close it. "I just don't see what I'm going to learn about demons by reading Grimm's fairytales." He shrugged.

"Actually…probably even more than I can imagine." The witch chuckled, but it only took a second or two for her serious expression to come back. "But it's mostly to test your researching skills." She explained.

"And those can't be tested in the sun?"

"Well I'm not the expert. I think we should take you into Cleveland so you can meet up with Giles and the others." Willow looked at her girlfriend. "He really shouldn't miss any more of the schedule."

Craig's shoulders slumped.

So did Kennedy's: "You want to waste two hours driving into the city and back." The Slayer moaned. "He chose to bunk off, let him deal with the consequences. Better yet…" Kennedy hefted the box in her arms and pushed it gently into Craig's chest. "You can carry this outside for Will and then you can help with her hocus pocus."

Craig grabbed at the slightly heavy box before it could fall to the ground, his mouth agape.

"Yeah, let me do that." He nodded, quickly recovering from his surprise.

He was actually going to help Willow Rosenburg do magic! He'd been awestruck just from observing how easily she'd performed the locator spells a few days ago, but to actually be allowed to participate.

"I don't know." Willow wasn't convinced yet. "I know you have an interest in magic, but I'm pretty sure Giles would want you doing what he wants you doing which is what everyone else is doing."

"But I'd still be learning, right?" Craig pushed. "I can take the research exam another time."

Willow looked at Kennedy, biting her lip.

Kennedy smiled back. "Look at it this way, Will. With three of us gardening we'll get done that much quicker and if you like I'll quiz him on demons as we work."

"Gardening?" Craig, puzzled, looked down into the box he was carrying. It was full with seed packets, heavy-duty gloves, a short fork and trowel and other gardening utensils.

Willow grinned at him, obviously noting his disappointed expression. "I bet you wish you'd gone to the library now, huh?"

No, he just wished he'd come in looking for a glass of milk half an hour later.

"Come on." Kennedy gestured him through the open back door. "Right, question one: What demon has a taste for Billy Goats?"

Craig cast one last look over his shoulder before leaving the kitchen. They were leaving the magic room door open so all he had to do was sneak back in while the women were gardening.

"Uh…trolls?" He guessed.

* * *

Faith finally regained her senses enough to peep out from whatever heavy plastic was covering her, into the too-bright world. 

She swallowed the queasiness down and poked her head out further.

Whoa…why was the world travelling past at a hundred miles an hour?

With one hand still held to her head to keep it on her neck, she manoeuvred herself so she could look around a bit.

She was in a flatbed truck. A beaten up, dirty, junk-filled red truck to be precise. Going…somewhere, very fast.

With a groan Faith slumped over sideways and made herself comfortable within the clutter while she tried to remember how the hell she'd gotten herself into this sitch.

* * *

The shower block was as humid as hell, and smelly from the rotten wood, but it wasn't in as nearly as bad a shape as Xander had at first feared. 

He ripped up another section of the mouldy floor with the claw end of his hammer and flinched as a splinter of wood broke away and smacked into the lenses of his safety glasses.

He readjusted them before sinking the claw into the next plank with some force.

"So are we going to get it all done today?" Andrew was up the other end of the long building doing the same job as Xander.

"No, we're just pulling up the floor today, letting the place air out, making sure there's no creepy-crawlies lying in wait under here to bite someone to death and getting it ready for when the plumber finally gets back to me."

"You still don't know when he's coming?" Andrew's voice held the accusatory tone that Xander did not in the least care for.

"I've phoned him five times, what more can I do. I'll grant you I could have gone to plumber school and learnt the craft myself in the time it seems to be taking to return my phone calls, but I don't have time for that!"

"Sorry." Andrew muttered. "It's just the bathroom's so crowded and it's making everyone cranky."

Andrew's apology and the satisfying crack of another chunk of floor coming up calmed Xander down. "You don't have to tell me, although I don't think it's just the bathroom. We'll concentrate on getting the floor up today so I can figure out if we have to call pest control or possibly a Slayer and then we'll call it a day."

"Okay." Andrew looked around at the damp, musty room; there was still a lot of floor to uncover. "This is gonna take forever."

"Well it had better not. I promised Willow I'd make her a chicken run this afternoon."

"Even though we don't _actually_ have the chickens, you know, at the moment?" Andrew pointed out as he used both hands to try and tug his hammer from the warped floorboards.

* * *

Faith felt the first few big spots of rain hit her face and she cursed the sky and her luck loudly. There was no need to be quiet, no one inside the truck was going to hear her with the way the wind was rushing by, and the noise of the engine combined with the constant reverberating roar of the tyres on asphalt meant Faith could barely hear herself either. 

Her stomach had settled a little and the pounding in her head had subsided to a low ache, but she wasn't feeling any better about things. She was hungry and thirsty and any minute now she was going to be drenched too.

Pulling the tarp. she'd originally woken up underneath over as much of her as she could while still being able to see around, Faith looked at the key she'd found in her pocket an hour ago.

It was from the motel she'd eaten at last night, but Faith remembered there being no rooms vacant when she'd asked and she obviously hadn't spent the night in a motel room 'cause she was on the road to God knew where with God knew who.

So she had a mysterious and completely useless key and in turn had lost her bag, which funnily enough held almost all of her worldly possessions. It wasn't what she would call a fair exchange. She'd already had a good look around the back of the truck and her bag definitely wasn't there which meant she left it at the place in Ogallala.

All she had were the clothes on her back, a couple of bills in the back pocket of her jeans, some loose change in a hip pocket and in the inside pockets of her denim jacket she had: A crumpled packet of Marlborough Reds, her Zippo and, thank God, her release papers.

She also had a useless fricken key too so things weren't _all_ bad.

With a sneer of disgust she chucked the key over the side of the truck and watched it bounce once before disappearing into the grass on the roadside.

The truck slowed a little and Faith ducked under the tarpaulin completely in case someone spotted her though the small rectangular window from the cab.

After a second or two the truck sped back up and Faith poked her head out once more to stare at the blurry scenery.

* * *

Giles had pre-arranged for them to use a small basement room of the Cleveland library for the research session. Originally it had been so the watcher trainee's weren't distracted from their studies, but a few days in the presence of the kids had made it clear to Buffy it was the general public that needed to be spared the distraction. 

The subterranean room was filled with the noise of three boys not doing as they were supposed to and another boy complaining that he couldn't do as he was supposed to because of the noise.

Buffy leaned back against a shelf of dusty cardboard files and tried to block it all out as she spoke on her cell-phone:

"No I'm not at Grand Central Station, Wesley, I'm in a library."

"…"

"Yeah I know it's hard to tell the difference. Were you like this when you were a baby watcher?" Buffy chuckled into the phone at Wes's response. "No somehow I didn't really think you were. Any tips on taming them?"

Buffy wandered around the central table as she listened to Wesley, looking over the kids' shoulders at their work. There wasn't a whole lot to see.

Reece had written plenty, but his handwriting was small and barely legible at a glance, a bit like Giles'. Peter's paper was still plain white, with the edges torn up to make paper bombs. Rajiv's was covered in cartoon doodles with just one or two lines of actual work jotted down in spider writing. Anthony was on to his second sheet of paper, despite his moaning about being unable to work, and the area around him was covered with tiny little paper bombs.

"Well Wes, I like your idea, but I think Giles will frown if we send half the group home with, what did you call it...?

"…"

"Yeah, a thick ear. I'll pass it along though. Now what I really called about…"

As Wesley interrupted her, anticipating her question, Buffy stopped talking and picked up a chair. Carrying it to the little desk at the wall where Naomi had seated herself away from the others, Buffy sat down next to her to see what she was doing.

Naomi had two pieces of paper in front of her and as she found references she obviously thought were important in her selection of books, she jotted them down identically on both pieces.

Bemused, Buffy watched as she listened to her one-time Watcher relating all the news that the LA crew had regarding Faith.

In big, loopy handwriting the attractive trainee filled the two pieces of paper up and, after putting them to one side, grabbed some fresh sheets and opened another book ready to start again.

"So the police have the car then?"

Buffy's voice made Naomi jump and shuffle the papers together as if they contained something secretly important instead of a list of possible demons taken from an encyclopaedia of the twentieth century.

"Okay well let me know when you have anything new. Thanks Wes." Buffy closed her phone and put it away. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"That's quite alright, I just didn't realise anyone was sitting so close to me, I was rather caught up in my research." Naomi now had her papers in a neat pile and her hands rested on top, adding to the secrecy.

"Well at least one of you is." Buffy flicked her hand to indicate the rest of the small room.

Naomi sighed. "They'll have it done before Mr Giles comes back I assure you. They all know this might be their one shot at a place, but they resent authority, well… your authority mostly."

"Why, what did I do?"

Now Naomi smiled. "Exactly what you were supposed to. You won. Now here we all are, playing by new rules in a new place and _some_ of the older families aren't too pleased about it. They'll come around, well some of them will, I'm sure."

"So they blame me for the Council buildings back in London being blown up?" Buffy frowned at the girl. "That's not fair! I didn't even know about it until Giles told me the day after and it wasn't like _I_ planted the explosives. That was the evil side!"

This time Naomi's smile was sad as she said in her cultured English accent. "The prophecies written about the First's upsurgence all had one thing in common."

"Me, right?" Buffy chuckled darkly. "If you knew the amount of blood and ink that has been wasted on me over the centuries…"

"I do actually," Naomi interrupted. "I wrote my thesis on Prophecy regarding the Slayer: Buffy Summers."

"Oh, well that's kinda cool. What did you get?"

"A Council commendation and a plane ticket to Cleveland."

"And what's that on the A – F grade system?" Buffy checked.

"An A-plus, I suppose." A bashful smile graced the English girl's rosy features. "Possibly with a gold star."

"I'm impressed." Buffy smiled. "So I should probably keep you around, huh? Seeing as you know everything that's going to happen, or might happen, to me ever!"

"It's not quite as concise a science as that." Naomi pointed out, chuckling. "But if you'd like to put in a good word for me with Mr Giles, I wouldn't be offended."

"I'll bear that in mind. So if your Buffy-thesis was your ticket here, does that mean all of you got Council Commendations?"

"No, only Reece and I, but we all passed the necessary criteria for entry into the Slayer Assignment program."

"All of you," Buffy looking surprised leaned closer to whisper: "Even Peter?"

Naomi's smile got bigger. "I know it's hard to believe isn't it?"

Across the room, a pen bounced off of Anthony's head.

"I think they need stricter criteria." Buffy sighed.

* * *

The floorboards were all pulled up and Xander had satisfied himself that there was nothing underneath that he couldn't handle with a bit of spider-spray and a good hosing down. Not that he planned to be the one handling it. 

"Okay, you got it, is it comfortable?" he asked.

"It's a little heavy but I'll be alright."

As Andrew started to tip over backwards, Xander steadied him with hands on his shoulders.

"You're doing great Andy. Now you want to hold the hose like this. Hey don't point it at me, point it that way!"

"Sorry."

"S'okay, just, for all we know this stuff melts flesh and if it does I don't want to find out first hand."

Andrew considered that while Xander helped him turn to face the open shower block door.

"Do you think I should wear gloves?"

"No, you'll be fine." Xander told him confidently. "Here, let me pull your goggles down for you. Don't want this stuff getting near your eyes."

Andrew held his head up as Xander fiddled with the plastic and rubber safety goggles, getting them comfortably over the blonde's eyes.

"Can you see okay?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay, pull your mask up, that's it, so it covers your nose too, atta boy. You look ready for Arachnid warfare now, soldier." Xander clapped him on the back, nearly tipping him forward, but catching the thick black straps of the gas filled backpack he pulled him upright again.

Andrew beamed nervously behind his mask. "Are you sure we shouldn't be calling in the professionals?"

"Nah, you'll do fine. Just remember to point the nozzle downwards when you pull the trigger." Xander tapped the trigger halfway up the hose fitting. He looked down at Andrew's sneakers and then at his own steel-toed work boots. "Here, we're about the same size, swap shoes with me."

Xander quickly pulled at his laces before forcing first one boot and then the other off of his feet and kicking them towards the younger man.

"Uh why?"

"Because they go better with the rest of the get-up." Xander lied easily, not wanting to admit that the flimsy sneakers Andrew wore were easily bite through-able and might also possibly dissolve if the death spray were to touch them.

Andrew accepted his lie readily and, with Xander's help, changed into the boots. "How does that look?" He asked, when, with Xander's help, he was standing again.

"Very cool. Now go get them! I'll be standing right…" Xander looked at the big red skull and crossbones on the poisonous backpack Andrew was wearing. "…over there!" He pointed towards the vegetable patch, where he could see Willow and some others working.

"Okay," Andrew jiggled his goggles back into a more comfortable position. "I'm going in!"

Chuckling at the younger man, Xander watched as he unsteadily entered the shower room and began spraying the ground. Then, on his socked feet, he wandered away to phone the plumber again and to find his wood scraps for the chicken run.

* * *

Faith had no idea how long she had been laying in the back of the truck when she finally started feeling well enough to move, but judging by her stomach she'd missed both breakfast and lunch. 

She wasn't sure whether they were heading North or South or whatever, but they'd been on the road for hours without stopping, so there was a good chance that they were hundreds of miles away from Ogallala by now.

Occasionally the truck passed through small, industrialised towns with names Faith had never heard of, but mostly they kept to the big Interstate roads, making it harder for her to find a jump off point. She didn't fancy hitting the asphalt at sixty miles an hour if there was another option, but she was tired of lying under the dirty tarpaulin and her hunger was almost enough to have her screaming now.

Life on the open road was never as romantic as it sounded. Why didn't she ever remember that until she was wet, dirty and starving? Hadn't she had enough romance on her last coast to coast road trip five years before?

Looking back now, she almost wished she hadn't run that first time. Maybe she should have gone to ground and just bided time until an opportunity to stake Kakistos had come up.

Sure, she'd have probably ended up dead, but that might have been preferable to lying in the back of this stinking truck with the sour taste of the night before still stuck to her tongue and teeth and a big ache from the hollow space in her belly.

Not for the first time since she'd woken up, Faith's mind wandered to what she might be doing if she had just met up with Giles and Wes like she was supposed to.

She couldn't imagine it though, not really.

She tried to picture the life the Scoobies and company had made for themselves in rural Ohio, but she couldn't do it. Kennedy's letter hadn't told her much and Angel, Wes and Gunn didn't know anything and Giles, on his one visit to the prison, had merely made ominous remarks about cows and…Pixies! If she'd heard him right that was. He hadn't gone into any details and Faith, trying to act uninterested, hadn't pushed him for any.

Faith didn't mind cows, but she wasn't too sure how people farmed Pixies, or even if Pixies existed. Maybe he'd meant something else.

Faith looked up again as the truck began to slow down. It veered to the right and then they were sweeping down an exit ramp and onto a smaller tree-lined road.

Taking in this development, Faith perked up a little and started looking around for a good jump off point.

* * *

Willow wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes as she told her tale, sticking mud to her eyelash without even realising it. "So we jumped into Giles' little sports car to give chase…" 

"How did you know which direction to go in?" Kennedy asked, grinning.

"Well the felled lamp posts and broken street signs gave us a clue. So there we are, following the destruction across town at break-neck speed and that's when Anya tells me she's never driven a car before! How she got us there in one piece is a mystery to me, but she did, but Giles' car was a convertible and the pages of the magic book I needed to reverse the spell all blew away in the wind and…" Willow had to stop again as she remembered the frantic bickering between herself and Anya and more giggles overtook her.

"So what happened when you caught him?" Craig didn't stop planting the tiny purple seeds he'd been entrusted with as he laughed along with Willow's story. "Did you magic him back into the crystal?"

"Not then no, that would have been too simple, before that the Bronze, our favourite club, got destroyed _and_ we found out that it was Anya's old boyfriend we'd released, and that just added to the Mayhem-y fun."

"Anya dated a troll?" Kennedy asked, her own laughter coming now.

"Who's Anya?" Craig asked. He couldn't remember hearing her name from anyone before.

A shadow fell over him and Willow looked stricken all of a sudden, her laughter disappearing in an instant.

"She was this Vengeance Demon that got trapped on the mortal plane by Giles when she tried to turn Sunnydale into a bizarro world overrun with Vampires. Apparently. I mean she was definitely a Vengeance Demon, but we only have her word about the wish because none of us remember it, well that and Willow and I were both dead in that world, so we probably wouldn't have remembered much anyway."

Craig had jumped at the unexpected voice behind him and turned now, spilling seeds, to see who it belonged to.

It was Alexander Harris, the tall, dark haired man with the eye-patch. Craig had never even spoken to him, but Andrew talked like Xander was his hero. It made him more than a bit interested in the one-eyed fellow.

"So she was evil then?" The lad asked.

"No!" Said Willow at once, shaking her head hard. "At least, not really."

Xander gave Craig a small smile before sitting down next to the gardening trio, he'd been carrying some wood and a tool box and he set these to one side. "That would depend on how you view evil. If you consider capitalism evil then yeah, she was worse than the devil. Otherwise, she wasn't really evil; she just had a sucky job…which she just really happened to enjoy before she was de-demonised."

Willow sat quietly, laying her own pinkish seeds in the ground one by one and sharing the occasional glance with Kennedy, who had given up all pretence of gardening and was laying on her stomach her chin resting on her crossed arms.

This was the first time since they'd arrived in Boudenver, since Riley and his army pals had shown up at the crator even, that Willow could recall Xander willingly having a conversation about Anya, and he had a smile on his face too! It was a sad smile sure, but heaps better than the usual tight-lipped, tick-inducing frown he normally wore if her name was so much as uttered.

"So where is she now?" As soon as Craig asked the question, he realised by everyone's faces what the answer was going to be. "She died, didn't she?"

Xander had lost his smile, but he didn't close entirely back up. Poking through his toolbox, avoiding eye contact with anyone, he nodded. "Yeah, she did."

Craig looked helplessly from Willow to Kennedy, asking to be rescued from this conversation he'd waded into, but neither of them seemed to know what to say.

"So were the two of you close, I mean, you know?" He asked, biting his bottom lip slightly.

Xander chuckled at some private thought before answering. "We dated for a while, sure."

"I'm sorry, man. That's harsh."

Xander just nodded, his good eye still searching for nails in his toolbox.

An awkward silence descended. The easy banter shared between Craig, Willow and Kennedy had died and the only sound was the clinking noise of Xander moving tools around and bird song from the nearby trees.

Until another shadow fell over all four of them, blotting out the sun and bringing with it the stench of death. They all looked up as the figure collapsed at their feet, face down.

"All done?" Xander asked.

"Mmmmph."

"Andrew?" Craig moved from the bed of herbs to the fallen figure's side. "Is that you? Are you alright?"

"Craig!" Andrew's muffled voice could be heard as he tried to roll to the side, but the gas pack on his back was too heavy. "My goggles are all misty, I can't see anything!"

Craig gently reached down and pulled the goggles from his head, careful not to pull his hair with the straps. "That better?"

"Thanks." Andrew tried to roll again, but still couldn't manage it. With difficulty he managed to lift his chin and pull the mask down, away from his mouth and nose. "I need a cool, refreshing cherry cola." He groaned.

"No you need a shower." Kennedy got to her knees and scrambled away, waving a hand in front of her nose. "What the hell have you been doing?"

"I feel like the Green Goblin." Andrew tried again to roll, looking like a tortoise stuck on its back. "Only not evil…anymore."

"He's been ridding the old shower block of poisonous creepy crawlies, so that when I finally get hold of the damn plumber it's all ready for him." Xander had set up a little work area now and was measuring lengths of plywood to find four roughly the same size.

"Is that safe?" Craig asked, still looking at Andrew's panting form with concern.

"Yeah, just don't sniff him too hard."

"Don't sniff me until I've had time to shower!" Andrew found the extra strength he needed and he pushed himself quickly to his hands and knees.

Everyone looked at Andrew.

"Not that you'd have any reason to…to sniff, uh, me." His cheeks went a little red.

Willow and Kennedy shared a smirk and Xander raised an eyebrow at him.

Craig fought back his urge to smile. "I'll go get you that coke."

As he ran to the kitchen he heard Xander casually ask: "So Andrew, something you want to share?" and then he let himself smile.

The kitchen was cool, quiet and empty as Craig entered and went straight to the large refrigerator. It opened with a squeak and he scanned the shelves for the fizzy drinks. They were behind the beer bottles on the top shelf. There was a variety to choose from including the cherry cola that Andrew had mentioned.

He grabbed a can, and then grabbed a few more in case anyone else wanted a cold drink.

He had a feeling Andrew would be uncomfortable with Craig singling him out in front of his friends. In fact over the few days they'd known each other, Andrew seemed pretty uncomfortable around Craig all the time, but it hadn't stopped the blonde American from making _him_ feel as comfortable as possible. Grabbing a few extra sodas was a small price to pay for returning the favour.

Craig didn't fancy anything fizzy himself and, because it was the easiest thing to steal, Naomi had been bringing him nothing but bottled water since their arrival. He balanced all the cans in one arm and reached into the fridge for one of the large milk cartons. Lifting it awkwardly, for it was pretty big; he flipped the top open with his index finger and lifted the hole to his mouth, guzzling the milk down happily.

By the time his thirst was quenched there was only an inch or so left in the bottom and it seemed pointless to put that back, so he lifted the carton again and drained the remains as he turned towards the bin. He didn't want to waste any more time in the kitchen than he had to with Andrew, and the others, waiting for him out there.

Turning to the bin meant that he was looking towards the still-open door to the magic room.

He'd forgotten about that!

He'd actually gotten really into the gardening, or more likely the stories Willow and Kennedy were telling him in the name of having him learn something, and the whole point of him being there – at Sunset camp – had slipped his mind. He could just imagine how that would go over if his old man found out.

Craig started for the small magic room, but stopped by the kitchen table looking down at the cans in his arms. Andrew was outside waiting for his drink and if he didn't go back with it, someone might come in looking for one and he'd be caught red-handed.

A look out of the window showed his new friends still sitting by the herb patch to the back of the garden and Craig quickly crossed the rest of the kitchen to the off-limits room. If he could just find what he needed straight away then he could stick it in his pocket and be right back outside.

Inside, the room wasn't much bigger than a pantry really. Two opposing walls were lined with shelves which were filled from floor to ceiling. One with various different sizes and colours of storage containers: boxes, jars, tubs, bottles and in one peculiar case, what looked like a green bubble, and the other with books, hundreds of books. Opposite the doorway Craig was standing in there was a window, a couple of square feet wide, above a small, neat desk. The view from the window was mostly obscured by a large bush growing right outside, but he didn't care what was outside the room, it was inside that held, hopefully, what he needed.

Craig scanned the storage boxes closest to eye-level, finding that they all seemed to hold ingredients inside. The content was written on the front of the box in both its common name and its old name. Usually in Latin, but sometimes in languages Craig couldn't begin to recognise – let alone understand.

In thirty seconds he spotted: A jar of Black Panther teeth (Olho da pantera preta), another of Salamander Eyes (some hieroglyphic type symbols) and Grizzledell Root (Racine grisonnante de vallon). All of these caught his eye and he smiled as he thought of the possibilities, but none were what he was actually after.

He looked up and down the room with a groan; it would take him an hour at least to check every single ingredient in the room. He didn't have an hour right now, he wanted to get back to Andrew, but if the room had been left unlocked once then it would be again, Craig would just have to keep up his vigilance.

With a last little grin at the Grizzledell Root, he left the Magic room and took his armful of cans outside.

* * *

The roads had been getting busier for a while and Faith, not wanting to draw to much attention to herself, crouched low in the back of the truck waiting for her moment. 

It came a few minutes later when the traffic signals up ahead turned red and the truck had to slow down. Just before they pulled to a complete stop, the lights changed to green again and the driver began to accelerate, but Faith had had enough. Taking a split second to judge the speed, she hopped up and over the side of the moving vehicle.

Landing on the balls of her feet, she narrowly missed being mown down by a beeping black van in the other lane. She saw the driver lean out of his window with his fist raised, his curses whipped away on the wind.

The truck she'd been riding in, having realised maybe for the first time that they had a passenger, slammed on its breaks with a squeal, coming to a stop twelve feet away from Faith.

The passenger jumped out, walking down the centre of the road, getting more honks from the busy traffic as several cars had to swerve to avoid first Faith and then him.

"Hey! What were you doing in the back there?" The passenger demanded, still coming closer. "What the hell were you doing in the back of my buddy's truck?"

The driver, his 'buddy' presumably, was out on the road now too and he was pulling something like a metal pole out of the door after him.

"Now this is what I call 'keeping a low profile'," muttered Faith.

With one last look at the guy coming towards her, she turned around and ran across the road. Cars slammed on their breaks, but she was gone to fast to be in any danger.

* * *

Giles had come back an hour before and, as promised, the boys soon calmed down and got on with what they were supposed to be doing. There was still more chatter than Giles probably would have liked, but he seemed happy to let it go for as long as work was actually being done at the same time. 

Buffy and Naomi were sat in the same places they had been during the morning, but now Buffy was flicking through some files Giles had asked her to read and Naomi was hard at work on the afternoon's exercise. She was still making an exact copy of everything she wrote.

Buffy finished browsing the folder on the latest Slayer to be found and stretched in the increasingly uncomfortable chair. She watched the young trainee for a few minutes in silence.

"You know they probably have a Xerox machine upstairs if you really want a spare copy of everything." She finally blurted.

Again Naomi did the quick shuffle which brought all the papers into a neat pile. "I don't, uh, that is… I find it sticks in my brain better if I write it down twice."

"Okay." Buffy looked about her, bored. When nothing else caught her eye she turned back to Naomi. "So those sandwiches Giles brought back for us hardly touched the sides, fancy going somewhere to grab a mocha and a piece of pie?" She asked hopefully.

Naomi looked like she liked the idea, but she tapped her papers. "I really should do this."

Buffy kept her voice low enough so only Naomi could hear her. "Come on, just half an hour. We'll tell Giles we're going to find the bathroom."

Naomi looked torn, but eventually she nodded with a smile. "Okay, I guess I won't fall behind in half an hour."

Buffy stood, motioning for Naomi to do the same. Everyone still seated, including Giles, looked up at them.

"We're just going to find the ladies room, Giles. Won't be long."

Giles nodded as they strode together to the doorway.

"If I need the ladies room, can I get the hell out of here too?" Peter piped up, gaining chuckles from Reece and Rajiv.

"Sure," Buffy drawled as she passed behind his seat. "I can make it so no one can tell the difference too, if you like?" She made a cutting motion with her fingers. "Of course, I don't actually have a pair of scissors on me, so it wouldn't be quite as neat as that, but…" She turned at the door to face him, asking brightly: "So, you coming?"

"The rumours are true then," Peter sat back calmly, aware that his friends were now laughing at him instead of with him. "You really are a castrating b…"

"Jones!" Giles cut him off sternly. "Finish that sentence and you'll be on the next flight to Heathrow."

"But not before I've shown you just how castrating I can be." Buffy promised.

Once on the street, Buffy and Naomi passed by a couple of promising looking places in favour of just being in the fresh air for a while. The small basement room they'd been in all morning had been getting more than a little stuffy and both girls were glad of the break.

"How about here?" Buffy eventually asked as they passed a nice looking patisserie with a few empty tables outside.

Naomi agreed and they went in to order big slices of pie and drinks.

After they'd ordered they came back to an empty table outside and sat in the metal chairs arranged around it. The two young women sat in silence for a minute, taking in their surroundings as they waited for their orders to arrive.

Buffy wasn't sure what to say now she'd gotten the Watcher trainee alone. It wasn't as if she knew a lot about her, and no suitable conversation openers were throwing themselves at her voice box. Blurting out 'So do you know which prophecy of my death is actually going to be the one that sticks?' seemed a tad abrupt and Buffy wasn't so sure she'd want to know anyway. What if it was tomorrow? Or in ten minutes? Maybe there was a prophecy about her being hit by a Cleveland bus on a warm October afternoon in the year of 2003. Best not to know then, but now, typically, that was all she could think about.

Just as Naomi started to look uncomfortable with the silence, Buffy blurted out the only other thing in her mind:

"How do you get your hair so shiny?"

Naomi made a small amused sound, which reminded Buffy of Giles, and ran a hand through her white-gold mane.

"I, er… use a lemon and honey treatment actually."

"Oh," Buffy was taken aback by that. "I thought you were just going to recommend a really pricey shampoo. Honey and lemon, really?"

"Well actually it's lemon and then honey - I can write down the details for you once we get back to the camp if you like, it's quite simple."

"That'd be cool, thanks!"

The plates of pie arriving disturbed the sudden girlyness and Buffy lapsed back into silence while she tried to think up something else to talk about.

Naomi beat her to it. "Can I ask, Miss Summers, why the Last Slayer has asked me out to lunch?"

"Well first off, we don't like to say the word _Slayer_ too loud in public." Buffy admonished with a grin; not registering the full sentence.

"I'm sorry, of course. At home it's not often that I'm in the company of people unused to the term."

"Don't worry about it, we've all gotten a little lax on the whole secret identity thing, but isn't that a bit boring? You really never get to just hang with normal kids?" She'd always assumed it was just the slayers that got the isolation treatment.

"The students at the Council Academy are 'normal kids' to me. After school is finished for the day we do the usual things like shopping, or the cinema or hanging out at the bottom of the Rugby field when it's dry. Sometimes on Saturday nights a group of us sneak into town and go to the local club – which is a dive of course, but they are never very thorough with their proof of age checks so it's easy to get in." Naomi paused for a mouthful of pie; after she'd swallowed she spoke again. "I should be speaking in past tense of course."

"Why, 'cause you're …What's the legal drinking age there?" Buffy scooped some more of her own pie onto her fork.

She'd have to remember this place, it was pretty good. Not that she'd probably ever be able to find it again. In fact she wasn't one hundred percent sure she'd even be able to find her way back to the library they'd come from.

"Eighteen, and yes I'm over eighteen now, but I actually meant because I have graduated. I don't actually attend the school any more."

"Wow, I guess I find it hard to imagine a whole school of Watchers." Said Buffy after a few minutes of thought. "I've had two of them, well three if you count Wesley and I don't very often, and they've both, all, been pretty old, pretty boring and pretty British – I think I thought they just sort of popped them out of the mould when they needed a new one. To think there are hundreds, maybe even thousands, of them running around is kinda wow, and a little creepy, no offence."

"None taken, and while there most certainly are more than a thousand watchers, their ages range from twenty-one to one hundred and three and they are spread over more than ninety percent of the countries around the world, so there's not much threat of them all banding together to come at you." Naomi put down her fork and pushed some hair away from her forehead in a frustrated manner. "And again I should be speaking in past tense; two hundred and forty people lost their lives when the bombs at the London headquarters exploded, all but seven of them were watchers."

"I'm sorry," Buffy shook her head, "I never really stopped to think about how many or who they were…"

"Because they were Watchers?" Asked Naomi, her tone sharp.

"No, because I was busy getting ready to go to war against the bastard responsible." Buffy replied, equally as sharp.

Thinking back though, Buffy couldn't recall feeling any compassion for those that had died in the blast, in fact she'd never even commented on it after being told. She didn't have to be honest with the new girl if she didn't want to be, but she couldn't lie to herself and she knew her thoughtlessness did stem from the fact that they were Watchers.

Even though it hadn't been a conscious thought at the time, sitting here with someone directly connected to what she now knew had been a devastating loss of life, made her feel pretty callous about it.

And that thought led to an even more depressing one! She _had_ sat many times since with someone directly connected to the Watchers Council in London and she'd never thought to ask him, Giles, if he'd lost anyone he was close to that day.

"Did you…" Buffy began softly, making Naomi look to her. "Did you lose any family?"

"An elderly Aunt, we were never close, she never had any time for children. I was lucky after a fashion, my father and Mr Travers never saw eye to eye and a month before the explosion they had the most awful row about how Quentin was handling the Council with regards to the First's threat. My father stormed out, refusing to co-operate with Quentin's plans and the matter still hadn't been resolved when the the attack was made on the headquarters."

"So you're dad is alive because he didn't agree with how Travers was handling the deal with the First and Travers got blown up because of the way he was handling it? I wouldn't of said that was luck so much as karma," decided Buffy.

"Yes well if it wasn't for the other two hundred and thirty nine people who lost their lives that day, you could call it poetic justice."

"Yeah well I feel bad for them, but me and Travers never saw eye to eye either and I find it hard to muster the sympathy."

"The irony, such as it is, was found in the session transcripts." Naomi continued.

"But how were there transcripts?" Buffy interrupted her. "I thought the whole building went kaboom. Giles said hardly anything was salvageable."

"Every time the Council sat for session, which happens – happened, at least once a day even when all was quiet, it was recorded, not just on paper but on a digital recording device too. A lot can be said during a session and not all Watchers bother to master their patience, leading to a lot of it all being said at once." Naomi paused to smile. "According to Elizabeth Heally, the minutes keeper, she broke three pencils the day my father and Mr Travers had their last dispute. The digital recorder is there to ensure that nothing at all is missed. Whatever is recorded is automatically backed up to a large storage-receiver in the basement, which is accessible not just to the network within the Headquarters, but also from a number of different locations around England…"

"Never put all your chickens in one basket." Buffy nodded in understanding.

"Er, quite." Naomi didn't look so much with the understanding, but she was a Watcher trainee and she rallied like the best of them. "Experts were able to hear the final conversation held in the session and their transcripts make it quite clear that in his last minutes Quentin proposed to send as many Watchers to Sunnydale as soon as possible, including many high-ranking members such as himself, to assess the situation and act accordingly."

From the girl's expression when she finished, Buffy had an inkling as to what was coming next and she beat her to it.

"That was what your dad wanted to do all along, wasn't it?"

"Actually yes, although I don't think he intended it to be quite as big an operation as Quentin implied, but then it wouldn't have needed to be at that time. I think my father mainly wanted to speak to you and try to come up with a solution to defeat the First together. He was very impressed with the way you handled Quentin to obtain information on Glorificus."

"Your dad was there then? He was one of the guys sent to hassle my friends?" Buffy felt herself starting to lose the respect she'd just built up for Naomi's father.

"He was there, but it was his assistant that would have done the hassling, under Mr Travers' orders – not my father's."

"Okay." Buffy accepted, it was all water under the bridge now anyway.

"So was there a second, Miss Summers?" Naomi asked when Buffy fell silent again.

"Yes, stop with the Miss Summers! I'm called Buffy okay. Only my bank managers call me Miss Summers and I'm not in the habit of liking them, so please it's Buffy."

"Okay Buffy," Naomi smiled. "So is there a third, or was the name thing really the original second?"

Buffy blinked. "Huh?"

"Did you have a reason, other than a craving for pie, for asking me out this afternoon?" Naomi clarified.

"I didn't ask you out!" Buffy replied, perturbed . "At least not in that way, I was just hungry and didn't want to eat alone."

"Well, as flattering as that truly isn't, I actually meant did you have something you wanted to ask me in private?" Naomi smiled.

Buffy's chair scraped back across the floor. "I thought the British were supposed to be shy, retiring prudes – I guess that's just Giles after all." Seeing Naomi's smile become uncertain, Buffy leaned forward again. "What did you think I wanted to ask you?"

"I don't know," Naomi said back, "what do you think I thought you were going to ask me?"

Buffy and Naomi held each others gaze for a minute before both dissolved into giggles.

It was another minute before they could speak again and it was Buffy who got the first words in:

"I wasn't making a pass at you when I asked you to come eat with me." She insisted, not wanting that assumption hanging around her neck in the future. "I know it probably looked like it, but I wasn't."

"I never thought it looked like that, Buffy."

"Oh, okay then."

"Of course now I do."

Buffy blushed hard enough to make Naomi start giggling again, which then set Buffy off again.

"Well, let me be perfectly clear, I wasn't. I just really didn't want to be lost in Cleveland alone. I haven't been into the city enough to know my way around yet."

"Don't you patrol out here?"

"Kennedy has just started bringing Alison here, getting her used to the terrain, but up until last week we were mostly concentrating on the Hellmouth, or the others were, _I_ was mostly concentrating on my ex." Buffy gave a self-depreciating laugh as she admitted that.

"Spike?" Naomi looked suddenly Watcher-like again.

"No, not Spike – and how does everyone know about that anyway?"

"Word gets around," said Naomi simply.

Buffy frowned at the explanation that didn't actually explain anything. "Well no, not Spike."

Naomi nodded, giving Buffy her undivided attention, which was a little un-nerving for the blonde.

"What does that mean?" She asked of the nod.

"I didn't say anything, Miss Summers." Naomi bit her lip as she realised her mistake. "I'm sorry, it's going to take some getting used to, calling you Buffy. It wasn't allowed at the Academy."

"You didn't have to say anything, your look spoke…hang on, what do you mean it wasn't allowed." Buffy's brain changed direction, barely waiting for her mouth to catch up. "Who said it wasn't allowed?"

Naomi smiled. "Well I don't know who made up the rule, but as a mark of respect Watchers must only refer to the Slayer in a formal manner. The only exception is the Slayer's personal Watcher and then the decision is left up to the partnership concerned."

Buffy sipped from her mocha as she thought that over. Something sounded hokey to her. Since when did Watchers respect Slayers? Only after they had no choice in Buffy's experience.

She put her mug of chocolate-laced coffee back down. "You don't think it might have more to do with distancing themselves, yourselves, from the person on the front lines?" She asked.

"I don't think I follow."

But Naomi did look like she followed. Buffy had already sussed her out as being pretty darn smart, and despite her pleasant air, Buffy was sure she was hiding something too. Right now, she looked more like she didn't want to follow.

"Okay, let me put it this way: Farmers don't give their cows first names, do they? Or their chickens or sheep or pigs? Of course not, because they know they are going to get killed and eaten and they don't want to become too attached to Bluebell or Henry or Shawn or…or Mr Gordo…"

Buffy's voice broke a little at the thought of Mr Gordo. The loss of her stuffed childhood friend was, weirdly, one of the things that still choked her up the most about Sunnydale. She assumed it was linked in her mind with losing her Mom's things and the family photos.

Naomi was uncomfortable with the change in Buffy's demeanour, from righteous Slayer on the offensive to a girl that seemed younger than her own years in the space of a sentence. She had to say something to break the silence.

"I believe Mr Gordo would be classed as a Surname."

Buffy huffed out a tortured laugh as she came back from her brief sprint down memory lane. "I suppose, but it just seemed to fit. Anyway, I think that's got more to do with it then politeness."

"I certainly don't think of you as a cow, and I'm almost as certain that my father never has either. If there is any truth to your theory, then I imagine it must only relate to a small percentage of Watchers."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"I'm afraid I am." Naomi insisted.

The women stared at each other until eventually Buffy shrugged.

"Agree to disagree?"

"That would seem to be our only course of action." The blonde Watcher-trainee nodded amiably.

"Good, so tell me some more about your thesis." Buffy grinned. "In other words, let's talk about me."

* * *

"He's a man, he shouldn't be gardening." Insisted Xander, not for the first time. 

"I don't mind really." Craig was pushing loose earth over the seeds he'd sprinkled earlier.

"What's gender got to do with it?" Kennedy was laying on her back now, with one arm over her eyes to blot out the sun.

"Men don't garden, they can farm, but they don't garden." Explained Xander, the bang of his hammer punctuating each word.

"Well this is kind of like farming, Xander – it's not like he's planting daisies, he's planting stuff that will help us to be more self-sufficient." Said Willow. She was digging holes in the soil ready to plant some big orangey-brown bulbs that looked kind of like potatoes.

"Though I totally agree with you." she continued, "Craig shouldn't be gardening, he should be in Cleveland with the others."

"I'm not very good with books," Craig admitted, not looking up. "I'm better with my hands."

"And you want to be a Watcher?" Kennedy removed her arm and tilted her head so she could see him.

"Not likely."

"What?" Kennedy sat up a little and stared at him in surprise. Willow and Xander were looking as equally puzzled.

Craig looked up sharply as he realised what he'd said. "I mean, course I do, but…but I'd rather, y'know, be out there doing it, than sitting around reading…Oh look, Andrew's finished his shower." He waved towards the blonde bloke coming out the back door with the demon pet Goorzar at his heels.

There were knowing smiles shared between the three friends at Craig's bright exclamation, but he was happy to ignore it as long as it covered the sound of his foot in his mouth. He really had to at least try and think before he spoke in the future.

* * *

Faith's stomach was grumbling something fierce, and her money was running out faster than she could travel and why hadn't she just met up with Giles anyway? What exactly was she trying to prove by going it alone? Was being dirty, and hungry and tired really gonna help her think anything out or build her character. She was starting to doubt it. She was also starting to doubt she could go more than another five minutes without eating something. 

She stopped on a corner and dug around in her pockets. What had started out as a small fortune garnered from her time in the prison laundry, okay so it was a very small fortune but compared to nothing it was a lot, was dwindling a lot closer to nothing all the time.

She counted out the change carefully, knowing she still had a few well looked after notes in her pocket to fall back on, and eyed the hot dog stand up the road. She could really go for one of those right now, with everything twice. Her mouth started to water just at the thought as she walked closer.

Seeing the price in big numbers written above the stall she halted in shock. Four dollars eighty for something she'd have finished and forgotten about in five minutes. No frigging way.

Disappointed, she turned her back on the stand and tried to ignore the delicious aroma wafting around her. Okay, things were expensive on the outside, she already knew that. What had she done before? She'd used her creativity.

She licked her lips slowly as she looked across the street at a mini-mart. Creative was the way to go now, she decided. It seemed a shame to waste her useful skills after all when she didn't have that many.

She waited for the traffic to clear before crossing the road and entering the small shop. An elderly lady held the door for her and Faith smiled sweetly as she said her thanks.

Inside, she scanned the shelves. She had to think small. Small and filling. Stuff that would easily fit into the pockets of her denim jacket, which weren't that large. Her jeans were a little tight to fit anything in them with out being conspicuous, even for a pro like her. She could probably slide a carton of cigarettes right in if she could get to them, but no, she wasn't here for cigarettes, just food. She could live without the smokes, she might go crazy, but she wouldn't die from starvation without them.

She made her way to the back of the shop, keeping a subtle eye on the Hispanic shop keeper who was trying to deal with a teenage customer, while getting mildly irritated with a lady Faith assumed must be his wife. Good, he was distracted. She did a quick check for cameras and couldn't see any, which wasn't a surprise. A shop this tiny probably couldn't afford much in the way of security.

She looked thoughtfully down at the stuff for sale, but her body remained aware of every presence in the room. If anyone came down this aisle, she would casually move to another one. Slayer senses came in real handy sometimes.

She picked up a couple of Twinkies and stood reading the back of one, while the other was pushed up her sleeve. When it was safely out of view she put the one she'd been examining back on the shelf and moved on.

Using the same moves, two candy bars disappeared up her other sleeve, and then as she crouched to check something on a bottom shelf, a bag of chips went into her inside pocket.

Damn, it bulged too much, but hey there was a smaller size. She swapped them and stood back up.

She walked to the fruit stand next and in pretence of checking the apples she knocked half a dozen to the floor. Muttering a quiet "Damn." for anyone who was listening, she bent to pick them up. One slipped into a jacket pocket and she put the rest back. She muttered irritably for real, when they all toppled again.

Okay, she'd pushed her luck enough, time to get out of there.

Faith didn't move, just kept staring at a bunch of bananas without seeing them. She wondered if she should buy something anyway, just to make her being in here for so long less suspicious.

She looked over at the counter and no one was paying her any attention.

'_Why are you stalling, just go already_,' she told herself.

She slowly moved for the exit. It wasn't like she was holding the guy up with a nine millimetre and demanding all the cash from the register. What she'd harvested wouldn't even come to ten dollars, probably, so why did her feet want to break into a guilty run.

She was close to the door when it opened and a woman with two little kids came through. Smiling a greeting she held the door for Faith and the brunette paused, looking from the shop keeper to the woman holding the door again.

With a voice filled with impatient disgust Faith snarled: "Ah screw it!" And turned back to the cash register. Dumping everything she'd hidden away on to the counter, she brusquely asked: "How much?"

The Hispanic guy seemed nervous of her tone and he kept shooting her glances as he rung up the items. "Uh, eleven dollars and fifteen." He told her.

'_For Christ's sake,'_ she thought, slamming the exact amount on the counter_. 'I should have just brought the hot dog.' _

* * *

They had spent well over an hour at the patisserie in the end, but finally they were making their way back through the busy Cleveland streets towards the library. 

"So you're saying that there is a prophecy?" Buffy asked, trying to catch the young trainee out.

"I'm saying there are dozens." Naomi corrected lightly.

"About Faith and I?"

"About the last Slayer and her counterpart." Naomi corrected again.

"And that means Faith and I?" She pushed.

Naomi didn't respond. She was surprisingly good at that, much to Buffy's annoyance. Realising she wasn't getting what she wanted; she changed the subject a little.

"But I'm not the last Slayer. There are hundreds of us around now, so even if the spell changed the whole natural order of Slayerdom I still wouldn't be the last, necessarily. Which ever one of us that lasted the longest would be last."

They stopped on a corner and Naomi pressed the button for the cross walk, she answered as they waited for the lights to change.

"Some people believe you were supposed to be the final Slayer and that that is good enough for prophesy, others believe that it translates as the last original Slayer."

The traffic stopped and they walked briskly across the road.

Buffy stopped on the opposite corner, turning to Naomi as she asked: "And what do you believe?"

"That there are so many contradicting prophecies, and theories concerning those prophesies, that the best thing to do is to live your life as you wish and pray it all comes out in the wash." Naomi smiled.

Buffy wasn't even really listening; her mind had already gone down another road. "But I wouldn't even be the last original Slayer, Faith would be. She came later."

"Maybe she is." Naomi shrugged infuriatingly.

"You know, for a future Watcher - you sure don't seem to know a whole lot." Buffy looked about her, trying to guess the right direction. "And I can't believe you got extra credit for a thesis that basically said: 'It's all a load of crap anyway so why worry about it!'". Nothing looked familiar so she picked a road at random. "Come on, it's this way."

Naomi didn't follow and Buffy was a little worried that she'd offended the polite trainee. Turning around to apologise for her irritable jibe, she realised Naomi was laughing, not really the response you expected from someone you had just insulted.

"Part of a Watcher's duties is to tell the fact from the fiction, the myth from the legend and the portent from the prophecy. And, incidentally, the East from the West." She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "It's this way."

Buffy pretended to be dubious, but now that it had been brought to her attention, the flower stall behind Naomi did look familiar. She walked back towards the English girl and they fell into step again.

"You'd better be right." She said for show. "If we take much longer getting back, Giles will go without us."

"I'm right." Naomi said simply, to well-mannered to point out that it was Buffy who had insisted on staying longer for cheesecake.

Buffy turned her head as they walked side by side, regarding the taller girl's profile. Eventually she asked:

"So do any of these prophecies about me and Faith come to pass after the end of Sunnydale?"

It was Naomi's turn to look at her closely. After a few steps she finally revealed something: "Yes, a few."

"Oh." Was all Buffy could think to say. That meant at least, that the Chosen two's paths had to cross again at some point in the future, more than once even.

They walked on in silence and up ahead Buffy could see the big library building, they'd reached it a lot quicker than she'd expected and certainly a lot quicker than if they'd taken her chosen route. Outside Giles was waiting with the boys, so that was their ladies room slash stomach flu excuse blown. Oh well…

She looked at Naomi again, clearing her throat nervously before asking:

"So do, uh, any of those prophecies have a happy ending?"

* * *

Andrew was standing with his hands on his hips when Giles, Buffy and the trainees finally trooped through the back door. 

"Where have you been? Dinner was ready twenty minutes ago."

"And everyone ate already?" Buffy looked around and the table. "Are you skimping on the rations now, Andrew?" She shed her coat before draping it over the back of a kitchen chair.

"No," Xander groaned from further up the table. "He made us all wait! "So what happened? Did Giles make you read every book in the whole library?"

"Don't blame it on me!" Giles answered indignantly. "It was the girls that kept us waiting."

"Well you're here now, so can we eat sometime before I have to go back to school?" Dawn cleared away her homework books she'd used to fill the time.

"Go take off your coats and wash up, dinner will be served in one minute." Andrew announced to the overcrowded kitchen.

The room emptied of Watcher trainees as they headed upstairs to wash their hands. Meal times were the only times you could count on all of them to do as they were told, even if they were told by Andrew.

Giles disappeared to his own bedroom to use his ensuite bath to freshen up and Buffy nudged Andrew out of the way so that she could wash her hands at the kitchen sink.

After drying them, she leant against the door frame of Willow's magic room. Inside the Witch was standing in front of her shelves, running her fingers over the various brightly coloured coded jars of ingredients.

"I think we should try a little Tumbleweed next, it's known to have scrying properties."

Looking over her shoulder at her girlfriend, who was perched on the desk with her feet on the chair, she sighed. "And it's about the only thing I haven't tried yet."

"You trying another spell, Will?" Buffy asked.

It was nice of her friend, but the Slayer almost wished she wouldn't. The disappointment was getting more unbearable with each try. It was obvious now that Faith was only going to come to Boudenver if and when she felt like it, and she obviously didn't feel like it this week. Why keep forcing the issue with magic?

"Oh hey Buffy." Willow turned all the way around to face her. "Yeah, well, it's only a matter of time before Giles checks his credit card statement and he's going to start asking awkward questions like: 'Why are we still buying eggs from the grocer?' and, uh, that kind of thing."

"You're doing another locator spell for the chickens?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay." Buffy tried to sound neutral.

She couldn't believe Willow thought that finding the chickens was a priority over finding Faith! Had she used the Tumbleweed to locate the other Slayer, or had she only used second rate ingredients? Was that why Willow hadn't found her yet, because she was using crappy things in her spells while all the good magical supplies were going on the poofed chickens?

"Dinner's ready." Andrew bellowed loud enough for the whole house to hear him, nearly deafening Buffy who was standing only a few feet away.

She nearly walloped him upside the head, but forced herself to walk away and take her seat instead. Thundering feet could be heard coming down the back stairs and she didn't want to have to sit at the counter.

Buffy fumed quietly to herself, knowing she was being irrational about it all but unable to help it, while everyone took their seats and Andrew served up the Roast Chicken dinner. The annoying cook had taken their guests as an excuse to widen his…cook-ability, so far Buffy hadn't had any reason to complain and as much as she wanted to pick fault tonight, just for the hell of it, the mouth-watering aroma actually picked-up her mood instead.

Tucking in, she made herself believe that the chickens were more important than Faith. The only bad side to eating chicken was a little extra weight, and she knew she could stand to put on a pound or two however loath she was to actually do it. Eating Faith…too many bad sides to mention!

It felt a little wrong to be having lusty thoughts about her estranged lover while at the dinner table, so she concentrated on the conversation instead. Well not the main conversation, because Peter was talking, but a side conversation between Alison and Xander.

"…Called this afternoon," the young Slayer was saying, "but I thought you'd all gone out."

'_Who had called?_' Wondered Buffy

"Nah, Andrew and I were in the shower block all afternoon and then we took a break with Will and that in the garden." Xander explained as he ate.

"Sorry I didn't check, I just knew I was in the house alone." Alison apologised.

"Don't worry about it." Xander assured her. "If it's important I'm sure they'll call back."

Buffy leaned forward to see up the table. "Who was it? Who called?"

"I don't know, they didn't leave a name." Alison leaned forward as well so that Buffy could see her clearly.

"Well did you recognise the voice?"

Alison shook her head. "I don't think so, I'm not sure."

"Alison, I need you to be sure - did it sound familiar?"

Alison just shook her head again.

"Buffy, Ally wouldn't recognise her voice anyway," Willow pointed out gently from further down the table. "They've never met."

Oh yeah, she'd forgotten about that. "Good point, okay just tell me what she said, did she leave a message for Giles or…or…or me? Did she sound okay?"

A light went on behind Alison's eyes as she realised just what was going through the elder Slayer's mind.

"No, there was no message for you, just for Xander."

Why would Faith want to speak to Xander? Or, to be more specific, why would Faith call only to speak to Xander? Buffy looked at her friend, sitting across from Alison, but he shrugged, guessing what she was thinking.

"Buff, I might have never met Faith but I know it wasn't her." Alison said, sure of herself.

"How could you know that?" Buffy felt that little spark of irrational anger come back. Of course it was Faith, who else would be making mysterious phone calls to…Xander? Buffy frowned.

"Because Faith's a chick, and whoever called this afternoon was a dude, I'm pretty sure."

"Oh."

"It may have been Angel or Wesley." Giles offered, after the silence had settled, even the Watcher wannabe's had shut-up to enjoy her discomfort. "They've both been rather good at staying in contact this past week."

The Scoobies all looked to Alison, but she shrugged. "I don't think it was Mr Wyndam-Price, he didn't sound British. Dunno what Angel sounds like, but the guy on the phone didn't sound like he had fangs."

"'Ow does someone with fangs sound then?" Asked Rajiv, grinning at the young Slayer.

"Well they'd lisp, wouldn't they?" Alison asked.

There was some good-natured chuckling from around the table, even Alison found her own answer amusing.

Buffy shook her head, irritably. "Angel doesn't lisp and he wouldn't ask to speak to Xander either. Besides I spoke to Wes this afternoon, if there was something new, he'd have told me then."

Giles turned to Alison again. "Could you perhaps give us the message the caller left for Xander?"

The young Slayer nodded as she tried to remember it word for word. "He said he figured he owed you a call or a few thousand of them and that he'd call back."

The Scoobies looked at each other, no more enlightened than before.

* * *

The small brick building that was Osceola's station was not the busy place Faith could have done with. Sure there were people around, but the clock on the wall said it was well into evening rush hour and this wasn't what she would call a rush. 

Spotting what she wanted, Faith made her way across the floor to the big time-tables nailed to the wall and tried to make head or tail of it. It wasn't easy. Back in Boston, she'd never bothered with the little lines on the charts, she'd always known instinctively which train to jump on to. After leaving Boston behind, time-tables had never been important. It hadn't mattered where she was going, it just mattered that whatever mode of transport she'd chosen was leaving right that minute.

Giving up and going back outside, Faith wandered down the road from the red, brick building.

A block away, Faith cut a left and disappeared between two houses. It took her five minutes to find the tracks behind the properties and she squinted up at the clouds scudding across the sun.

She knew the sun rose in the east and set in the west, and it was gone five so the sun was going down not up, so that meant that whichever direction the sun was heading in, was west – back towards California.

After five minutes of squinting, Faith kicked her toe into the dirt at the edge of the tracks.

"Who am I kidding? I ain't fricking Mick Dundee." She chuckled at her temporary insanity and picked her direction a different way. "Eenie meanie miney… ah screw it!"

Faith started walking along side the tracks. She only had half an idea where she was right now, so what the hell did it matter which direction she picked anyway. She pulled the potato chips out of her pocket and opened them up as she trudged along. Her feet idly kicking at broken up cinder blocks as she crunched through the packet.

If she knew how to tell the time better by the sun than she knew how to tell the direction, then Faith would have known it was just under an hour since she'd started walking that she heard a familiar whistling sound.

Minutes later the long freighter train could be seen in the distance behind, drawing closer with every step she took away from it.

Faith bit into her juicy apple again just as the train drew alongside her, feeling to her as if it was rocketing past even though it wasn't moving all that fast at all. Faith's hair blew about in the stream of wind the train created, but she didn't step aside, or even give it a look.

The train rumbled on, the clackety–clack of it metal wheels on the metal tracks loud in the stillness of the Iowa countryside.

A few minutes later an apple core came flying out of an open box car, bounced once and rolled to a stop in front of a surprised cow.

* * *

Craig sat in the boy's dorm alone. Everyone was back now and dinner was in the process of being eaten and he could hear it happening even from all the way out here. He'd been lingering near the kitchen for a while, but the delicious smell was driving him closer to the door, so he'd backed off completely.

His stomach grumbled as he tried to come up with ways to break into Willow's magic supplies within the next couple of days. Naomi would be out after dinner with any luck. She'd bring him a big bowl of whatever Andrew had cooked that evening. Craig couldn't wait, in the last few days he'd come to adore Andrew's cooking even more than his mum's.

Something small and hard hit his back. He flinched and twisted around to see what it was. A small green Hazelnut lay on the bed behind him. Picking it up curiously, he flinched again when another struck him on the shoulder. "Ow!"

Looking around wildly, he could see no one in the not very large barn with him. Another zinged off his other shoulder and he stood up. "What the..?" Another hit his forehead and really hurt. His fingers checked for blood as he back-stepped towards the door. A nut hit his ankle at the same time as one from behind caught him on the elbow.

He'd had enough. Turning to flee the dorm he thought he saw a flash of purple disappear in front of him, but he didn't really care.

He bumped into Naomi on the other side of the door and she had to side-step to stop from spilling a bowl of food down them both.

"What is it, Craig?" She demanded.

He shook his head at her, completely bewildered.


	7. Act 4

_Act four._

_Saturday_

Faith yawned, stretched and cursed the hardness of the floor beneath her. All she wanted to do was snuggle back down and go back to sleep, it couldn't have been much past six in the morning.

Knowing that wouldn't be a good idea, she sat up, scrubbing her hands over her face to try and wake up a bit. She hadn't even meant to fall asleep, but the rocking of the box-car must have been too much for her already weary self.

The sun shone brightly through narrow slats in the sides making dust-motes dance in the other wise gloom-filled interior.

She stretched again. Murmuring to herself, "You're really travelling in style now, ain't ya Faithy." Faith stood and walked across the swaying floor to the large sliding door. She yanked it open a couple of inches and peered out.

"Now where the hell am I?"

**000**

Buffy looked up from not eating her cereal as Willow and Kennedy clattered down the back stairs with duffle bags over their shoulders.

"Where are you two going?"

"Um, down to the lake." Willow blinked at her. "Remember, we told you last night? Picnic by the water? Make the most of the last of the good weather? You should come, it will cheer you up."

"I don't need cheering up." Buffy replied flatly, looking back into her soggy bowl and missing the nudges Kennedy was giving her girlfriend. They were hard nudges meaning no, no, no.

Willow gave a helpless face and gestured to the blonde Slayer. Kennedy rolled her eyes and went to pour coffee.

"I didn't realise you were going this early, that it was a breakfast picnic." Buffy had hoped Willow would be trying another locator spell this morning, for Faith not the chickens, but she didn't want to come right out and ask.

"Well, we figured why not make a day of it. We've been kinda neglecting our quality time recently." Willow smiled at Kennedy as the small Slayer handed her a steaming cup.

"And," Kennedy continued as she placed a mug in front of Buffy, "I have to start looking for a job Monday."

"You're getting a job?" Buffy finally found herself interested in the conversation.

"Only a little one. Something part time." Kennedy nodded. "My mother has threatened to stop sending me cheques, because she thinks I'm leading a life of debauchery…"

"And really, we hardly debauch at all." Willow smirked.

"…Obviously I can't tell her what I'm really doing and I won't lie to her and say I'm in college because then she'll get all crazy about grades. I'm hoping that she'll see how settled I am now when she meets Willow at Christmas and then the cheques will start again. Until then I need a little something to keep my girl in pretty things." She gave the red head a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be in the car, don't be long."

When Buffy and Willow were alone the blonde pushed her bowl away from her with distaste and picked up her coffee. "You're meeting Kenny's parents?"

Willow nodded. "Not until the holidays. Mine are on a whistle-stop world lecture tour and won't be back in the States until February, so it seemed like a good opportunity."

"Wow. That's serious relationship stuff, Will."

More excited nodding. "I know, I hope they like me. They have to like me. They know she's a lesbian so that hurdle is crossed, but what if they don't approve? What if they…"

Buffy stopped her before excitement could turn to a nervous ramble. "Willow, parents love you, you know that."

"Not all the time, sometimes they try to burn me at the stake."

That earned a tiny giggle. "Well if Kennedy's Mom is wearing a button that sounds like a cow, keep the matches away from her."

"Will do." The red-head grinned back and was about to leave. Almost out the door she turned to face Buffy again. "I'll try another locator spell when we get back if you like. I know the last few have been a bust, but maybe we'll get lucky today - there's a few new things I want to try."

"Thanks Will, I'd like that."

The red-head gave her best friend a soft smile and left.

**000**

Craig stepped out from beneath the icy cold water, gasping for breath and reaching

blindly for a towel. His hair was matted to his face from the water pressure and he used his free hand to push it out of his eyes, making it stick straight up in the air.

"Gah! That doesn't get any warmer." He rubbed the towel hard over his back and shoulders to get the blood pumping again.

"I don't see why you can't just wait for a quiet moment and use the shower in the bathroom?" Naomi sat on a rock a few feet away; her back was turned to give him some privacy.

Tying the towel around his waist Craig sat on another rock to pull his t-shirt over his head and in the process flattening all his hair back down. "A quiet moment in that house? Yeah right. Anyway it's not like I'll ever get to shower under a waterfall back home." He pulled underwear and shorts on before removing the towel to scrub at his hair.

Naomi looked over her shoulder. "I don't know if you can really call this a waterfall."

They were in the woods somewhere north of the camp, possibly still on Sunset territory; she wasn't sure how far the boundaries went. Around them the ground was sloping, the gradient steep enough that the paths that criss-crossed through the trees meandered from side to side to avoid it.

Behind the two English teens, a niche had been hollowed out of the stone and earth by years upon years of water passage. The water came straight out of the ground about seven feet up to splatter heavily into the pool below. The pool itself was a mere four feet in diameter and didn't reach past mid-shin, but the spring constantly kept it topped up with pure, freezing cold water. Old water was carried away by the shallow stream that left the pool to wind its way down hill to presumably meet up with the lake ten miles away.

Craig had found the beautifully secluded spot on his first day in hiding at Sunset Camp and so far it was still one of his favourite things there. He just wished there was a hot tap he could turn to adjust the temperature. "The waters falling. That makes a waterfall." He used a corner of the towel to dry his ears.

"I suppose, it's just when I think of a waterfall I think of Niagara, and this doesn't quite measure up." Naomi picked up the supplies she brought with her. A shampoo bottle, some soap and a bag of crisps.

Giving her a grin, Craig put the towel around his neck, prize fighter style, and slipped into his shoes. "Wouldn't want to wash my hair under Niagara. Thanks for the stuff. I'll pay you back when we get home."

They started walking up the slope back to the camp, taking their time on the winding paths.

"Don't worry about it. I'm just sorry it's so girly. I should have packed you some of your own; I know what you're like."

The boy shrugged. "S'alright. Smells pretty nice really. So... You're sure Willow's out all day?"

Nodding, the pretty blonde went through what she'd found out earlier. "Ms Rosenburg and Kennedy have gone for a picnic; they won't be back until this afternoon. Rubear and Ms Summers are taking us all on a field trip – to the Hellmouth." She grinned at her friend. "If they have a gift shop would you like me to bring you something back?"

"Damn I would have liked to go on that." Craig moaned.

"Why?" She asked surprised. "It's daylight. From what I can tell, we're just going to see a big church and then come home. I'm not even sure of the point."

"Hellmouths have literally hundreds of ley lines all converging at the same point. And not just ley lines either. Magical roots, cosmic fibres, supernatural circuitry. They ain't just mystical gateways to Hell you know, despite what you watchers wanna think." Craig offered the young Watcher in Training a hand up a particularly steep and muddy section of the track and then they were on even ground and only five minutes from the camp. "Think of the chaos that could be caused with power like that at your fingertips."

Naomi stopped short and grabbed at Craig's arm to stop him too. "No! Do not think of that!"

Gently taking back his arm, the teen winked at her and continued to walk. "I'm not. Wouldn't dream of it." It wasn't like he could ever manipulate the forces of nature in that kind of way even if he did have the urge. Which he didn't. "I just think it would be cool to go there and see if I could feel anything. Power-wise."

Naomi accepted this and trailed after him again. "Then why don't you come?"

"Because sitting in a packed mini-bus is not a good way of hiding and because with all the bigwigs out of the way I can help myself to what I need in complete privacy."

"Fine." Naomi shook back her perfect sheet of white gold hair in readiness to take her leave. "I'm going to get ready." She handed him the crisps and started the walk back to the main house leaving Craig to return to the boy's dormitory until all was quiet. A thought occurred and she stopped in her tracks and turned back to him. "You won't have the place completely to yourself, Andrew will still be here."

She'd meant it as a warning, but seeing her friend's sudden smile, she realised it was defunct. Shaking her head, she left him to it.

**000**

The tracks always took the back way into town which had always been fine for Faith too. Except sometimes it took you a while to work out where the hell you were.

She didn't have a clue right now, but where ever it was, it was built up, graffiti'd and grey. It was beautiful to her desert and prairie weary eyes.

She left the railway behind and went in search of breakfast. Locations could wait 'til later.

**000**

"So which of them do you like?" Kennedy lay across the blanket, her head propped up on one hand as she took turns between nibbling her carrot stick and taking a bite from her sandwich.

Willow mirrored her position exactly, except she held no snacks. At irregular intervals she took sips from her bottle of water. "Which of the what do I like?"

"The Watcher trainees. Which one do you like the most?" Kennedy finished the carrot and reached into the tub for another.

Willow gave her a strange look. "Well none of them really. I mean, you can't deny Naomi is gorgeous, but I'm happy with you." Something occurred to her. "This isn't some way of telling me you want an open relationship is it?"

Kennedy laughed. "No, never. I only want you."

Blushing at her mistake, Willow leaned over and brushed her lips against her partner's. "Well that's nice to know. So what did you mean?"

Kennedy ran a finger through the red hair falling between them. "Which do you think has a shot at staying?"

"I'm not sure. Two are staying, and if I had to pick from inside Giles' head I'd say the little one, Anthony, and …" She stared at blue sky while she tried to decide who else.

"Anthony is too young according to Dawn. He still has another year of high school to complete in England. Apparently it was all cool while they were studying at the Council over there, but now the operation has shipped Stateside some of the parents have gotten a little reluctant to insist that Junior follows in father's footsteps."

Willow nodded. "Especially with a lot of father's feet being recently blown to pieces. And mother's feet," she added, "y'know, so as not to be too sexist."

"Precisely." Kennedy delved for another carrot.

"So he's out." Willow mused. "I'd say Naomi would be my next choice, but I think Giles might deliberately not pick her because of them being practically related. He'll worry it won't look right."

"Dawn reckons that even if he doesn't keep her here, he'll make sure she gets on the program somehow. Have you heard Nai speak Latin? She could have been born in ancient Rome. D was getting pretty jealous until she realised that Naomi mixes up all her Sumerian prefixes and has to use a finger to read Tocharian."

Willow rolled back to face her girlfriend. "Dawn can speak Tocharian? I can't even speak Tocharian."

"I don't even know what Tocharian is, but if it was just nonsense she spouted then Giles and Naomi are really easily impressed." The new Slayer grinned at the still pouting Wicca and sidled close enough for a cuddle. "You're still the smartest, sweetie, Dawn just has a knack for languages."

Willow rested her head comfortably on the offered shoulder and wrapped her left arm around Kennedy's waist. "I know. I'm not threatened, yet, but she's young, you know. I may already have reached my peak and she's still got years of book learning to go. I don't like having the youth of today snapping at my heels so soon. I still wanna be the youth of today."

Kennedy gave a half laugh. "What about Peter?"

"Eww – what about him?"

"Agreed. Raj?"

"Rajiv." Willow thought about the young Asian Brit. "I don't know. He has a good brain, I'm sure of it, but whether he actually knows how to use it? Plus, I had to shoo him out of my cupboard yesterday, he was leafing through the medicinal herb draw."

Kennedy snickered. "Dawn says he's pretty damn smart, but he's a little preoccupied because he can't find anything decent to get high on. Apparently when he's stoned; he's some kind of Einstein."

"Well I'm not going to be the one to test that theory. How does Dawn even know all this? Should we be worried?"

"She's been spending a lot of time with Reece since they got here. I assume he's filling her in."

"Hmm, Reece? I'm not to sure about his Golden Highness either."

"Well Dawn has nothing but good things to obsess over about him. All I know is he's handy with a sword. He was in my patrol group last night and he took down a Meluthian Hedray like he did it all the time. I think he's one of those guys that's great as long as you keep him where you can see him, but put it this way: I wouldn't date a woman like him."

Willow chuckled. "Me neither. Those Mel-hed's still hanging around?"

"Just the stragglers that were out hunting when we torched the nest. We'll get them." Kennedy assured her confidently.

"They're scared of werewolves, maybe that'll help."

Kennedy sat up, dislodging her girlfriend gently, to watch the speed-boats scudding around near the shore.

Sitting up also, Willow put an arm around her waist.

"Full moon tonight." Kennedy said quietly. "That came around quick. Guess it'll be good scouting practice for the wannabes. Wish we had all the girls here though. Do you think Buffy will come along? Shit what about the kid…?"

"Shh, Giles spoke to him while he was still in the hospital. He's told his parents and they have the fact sheet I compiled." Willow reassured her girlfriend. "If they have any problems they are gonna call us."

Kennedy gathered herself. "Yeah I think I knew that already. I guess we're set then. Maybe we should head back now so I can get things organised." She'd been dreading this night for four weeks, but with all the other stuff going on it had still managed to creep up on her.

She started to stand up, but Willow caught her arm and pulled her back down. "Will you relax? It's going to be fine." Willow turned on her cute voice. The even cuter than normal one. "Don't cut short our fun-day because of monsters."

Kennedy forced herself to calm down. "You're right. Let's make the most of this nice secluded lakeside spot and worry about the monsters later." The young Slayer ran her fingertips up her lover's side, tickling her lightly through her top.

Willow looked up from resting her head on the brunette's shoulder, a smile lighting up her eyes. Without saying anything more, they both slowly leaned in until they were kissing.

**000**

Buffy sat at the front of the recently fixed mini bus with Naomi in the seat beside her, really wishing she could be someplace else. Since when did she sign up to be camp counsellor to the annoying-as-hell English kids?

Anthony sat across the aisle from them and every couple of minutes a balled up piece of paper hit him on the back of the head. The first couple of times, even though the boy hadn't reacted, Buffy had turned in her seat ready to give the culprit what for. She couldn't tell which brat it was though. Now she was just trying to ignore it.

Naomi was saying: "The problem is: the more attention you give them, the worse they are; but," she chuckled, "if the attention comes in the form of a slap across the face with a wet kipper, it may work."

Buffy smiled. "You think I should try it?"

Naomi smiled back. "I should very much like to see it if you did."

A glimpse of raven hair caught Buffy's attention before she could answer. As Giles drove the mini-bus through Boudenver and on to Pleasant Creek, Buffy strained her eyes for a better look at the woman standing at the bus stop.

When the minibus had gone past and Buffy could see the woman's face her heart sank back down.

What was that? Strike one hundred and forty three? Buffy had hardly left the house all week in case Faith actually rang, or there was something on the news that indicated the authorities were aware of the situation, but still every time she did go out she imagined Faith was everywhere.

But if she wasn't in Boudenver, where the hell was she?

**000**

Figuring it wasn't gonna make her late for nothing, Faith was sitting down on a bench dedicated to some Dearly Beloved soul and looking out at a rolling green lawn dotted with head stones and shady trees.

She'd had to take a break from wandering around the city. It was starting to get to her that she had nowhere to go, nothing to do and no money she could afford to waste. So she'd walked through the gates of the city cemetery, because really – where else was she gonna go to relax?

If the sun had been out, Faith probably would have happily shed her increasingly dirty jacket and stretched out between a couple of graves to catch some rays, but the sky had been grey for most of the day so far, sunlight only peeking through now and again. So she sat on one of the seats instead, enjoying the peace and quiet after the steady traffic noise she'd been surrounded with since leaving the railway that morning. Weird, how she'd gotten used to the quiet of the countryside even though it had gotten on her nerves when she was in the middle of nowhere.

Faith nodded to an approaching woman, not even considering it might look a little weird her being in a graveyard, but not at any actual grave. She received a tight smile back as the woman passed her, coming to a stop and kneeling at a fresh grave five or six plots down. She looked away again to give the grieving lady some privacy and went back to her thoughts.

It was mainly the woman from the bar she kept coming back to, the rich chick with the fancy smokes; the one who must have stolen Faith's bag. She'd been racking her brains for the past two days, but so far while she remembered she had been drinking with a woman, she couldn't remember much else. Not even what she'd looked like really.

But she remembered the cigarette case and the smokes must have been pretty fancy considering the way they'd messed with her head. Either that or her drink had been spiked, or …something. Faith shook her head now as she remembered how wasted she'd felt – not the good kind of wasted either.

Faith could sorta remember agreeing to go to her room, but she'd just planned on crashing there for the night instead of on one of the crappy deck loungers; turned out her drinking partner had other ideas. They'd been in the corridor between the pool and the motel rooms when… whoever she was… had kissed her hard on the mouth. Pushing the shocked and disorientated Slayer back into the corridor wall.

After she'd recovered from her surprise Faith had shoved the woman away, but the bitch hadn't taken no for an answer.

Damn she remembered it more now. They'd scuffled a little, bouncing back and forth off the walls, until Faith got a grip on her throat, she wasn't squeezing or nothing, just it had been the only hand hold she could get to force the slut away.

And then…and then it was still all blurry! But Faith knew something had happened, something that had her… running away? What the hell, she didn't run...?

Her thought process was interrupted by a piercing scream from the mourner still kneeling a few plots down. Faith turned quickly to see what the hell was going on.

There was an arm sticking out of the ground.

"Dude, it's the middle of the day." Faith shouted at the flaying arm sprouting out of the freshly laid turf as she sprinted over to the mourner-lady's side to stand at the foot of the erupting grave.

"What is it?" The lady, probably in her fifties or close to them, screamed at the top of her obviously very healthy lungs. "What is that down there with my son?"

"That is your son." Faith answered without thinking. She was too busy glaring at the overcast sky. Something hit her hard on the arm. "Ow."

"That's my dead son you're talking about!" The women screamed at her, punching Faith in the arm again.

"Ow – what? I'm sure he was a good little choir boy when he was alive, but he's not now is he…"

"He's _was_ a good boy." The old chick insisted, punching Faith again. "That's not my son! My boy never even sleepwalked, he wouldn't be…" She broke into tears, but still had enough in her to strike out at Faith again while screaming: "Do something to help him!"

The woman had a hell of a talent for giving dead arms. Faith flexed hers as she looked from the batty chick to her dead son struggling to get out of his grave.

"Okay, firstly – you need to back off lady before I punch you back, got it? Secondly – where is the fricken sun?" She looked up again, but nothing. "Thirdly – unless you wanna see your boy die all over again, you might wanna turn around." She added as kindly as she could manage in her irritation.

Okay, so it was a cloudy day meaning the Vampire's could come out and play. Back in Boston, Faith and her Watcher had come across a whole apartment block of the undead that moved about freely enough during the day to hold down regular jobs at the abattoir thanks to the seldom seen weak sun in the cold winter months. Obviously it was a different matter in So Cal and the only time Faith had seen a Vampire there venture outside during daylight, and live, had been Spike – who had been crazy anyway.

From a newspaper Faith had seen earlier, she knew she was in Indianapolis now, and while she had so idea where abouts on map that would be, the days had been getting a little colder as her week wore on, so northwards would probably be a good guess.

Two arms were waving about now as he clawed his way out, and Faith cracked her knuckles ready to go to work. It had been a few months, but it wasn't like slaying was something you forgot how to do.

She was so busy stalking forwards that when the vamp's mother pushed her hard, Faith actually stumbled a few steps to the side. "Hey!"

"Don't you hurt my son!" The woman yelled at her, her voice was getting a little hoarse now, thank God.

"Jeez, I'm not gonna hurt your fricken son, I'm gonna kill the demon that hurt your fricken son." Faith shoved the lady away with her palm, hard enough to land her on her ass. Hopefully she hadn't broken a hip or nothing.

Faith produced her stake, a bit of an amateur looking thing, but she'd done the best she could with the spikey branch she'd picked up in Toponoh. After slicing off the long-ass thorns and whittling one end to a sharp point with her penknife it would do.

The woman screamed as she saw Faith pulling the lethal looking stick from her inside jacket pocket. "What are you going to do? Don't hurt me, please."

Faith, who had been trying to ignore her, couldn't anymore. "Why would I hurt you? Unless you count punching me, shoving me and trying to deafen me as a reason? Just shut up and let me get this over with."

It felt weird doing this in daylight right now. It never had before, she'd never cared what time it was when she slayed, she'd just slayed. Now she had the urge to look around, to see if anyone was watching. It might be illegal to trespass in cemeteries after dark, but this must look a damn sight worse. Her fingers squeezed the stake like it was some kind of executive-stress toy.

The creature chose that moment to finally shake the earth and sod from his head and shoulders.

"Hi Mom." He said pleasantly as his yellow eyes focused, not even noticing Faith advancing on him.

His face was the ugly visage of the vampire and the lady, his mom, screamed her loudest yet as she caught sight of him from her seat on the grass.

Faith cringed, covering her ears.

The Vamp pulled an even uglier face. "Damn Mom, you don't change do you?" He launched himself out of the messy grave now, heading straight for his mom.

Who screamed some more.

Faith felt like letting him bite her, just for a minute, just enough to knock her unconscious and shut her the hell up. Instead she lunged forward, grabbing the collar of his once ironed white shirt and yanking him backwards.

As he ripped himself from her grip and spun around, Faith gave him a smile. "That's right; wouldn't you rather may with me?"

It looked her up and down, eyeing her stake and apparently deciding it wasn't dangerous. "Yeah, I would. Got anything in mind?"

"Harry?" The woman on the ground shrieked. "Harry, what's wrong with you?"

Harry ignored his mother; Faith had to give him props for that. "How about we play: You stand there like the good boy your Mommy thinks you are while I ram this pointy wood through your heart; sound like fun?" She held it by her stomach, the sharp end up.

"I got a better game." Harry wasted no more words as he jumped on Faith, his mouth wide as his virgin fangs tried find someplace to sink into her neck.

Her stake arm was trapped, but the newbie didn't know his own strength yet and was only using about half of it. Faith had no trouble avoiding his teeth, but the Vamp was a grabber and she was having a little difficulty in getting him off of her.

As she gripped one of his arms and held it away from her, Faith spoke to the old lady still on the grass. Faith had seen her start to get up once, but at the moment her dead son had leapt for Faith's throat, she'd fallen back down again.

"Boy's - all the damn same, they only ever care about their own satisfaction, you know?" She said amiably, trying at least. This hard to be hard for her, seeing her dead kid acting all alive and shit. That was the worse thing about Vamps.

Faith doubted the lady could hear her above the high note scream which was probably shattering glass somewhere, but it had been awhile since the Slayer had had a proper conversation and as Harry seemed more interested in her neck than her mind, she kept it up as she tussled with the fiend.

"Don't get me wrong. I'm sure your boy was a real prince when he was alive, but, hey, they all turn into pigs eventually, see?" Faith grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth away from her neck just enough to give her room to head butt him.

Which she did. The pain just spurred him on, he musta been really repressed when he was growing up. With a growl he tried to head butt her back and caught a left hook in the face for his trouble.

He was still all clingy though, not giving Faith enough room to get the stake in his chest. She gripped it tight in her right palm as she struggled to get her left hand around the monsters throat and push him backwards to create some room. Her fingers caught him just under the chin and she pushed, clenching her fingers at the same time, causing him to howl.

Faith, her arm held out in front of her; fingers still squeezing hard, stared at Harry as a peculiar feeling of déjà vu washed over her. She done this before. The feel of the stake biting into her right palm wasn't a part of it though; it was the look on Harry's face…

"She was friggin' _Vampire_!"

The memory rushed back to her so fast that she actually let go of Harry and he fell back just a step, clutching his throat.

"Yeah, I kind of guessed that already, what with the way those freaks bit me the other night and then waking up in a coffin…"

"Not you, _she_ was a Vampire!" Faith could remember her face changing now, the way her yellow eyes had flashed right before she'd smiled that predatory smile and tried to kiss Faith again. She shuddered at the memory.

Harry looked over at his Mom who was slowly, too slowly as far as Faith was concerned, losing her voice.

"Her? I don't think so."

Faith shook her head at him, but she wasn't really listening.

"I didn't kill her." She said softly, trying to remember why not. Her stake would have been in her jacket, just like it had been most of the week, so why hadn't she reached for it.

Harry looked at his Mom again. "I can see that."

Faith turned her bemused look on the Vamp. "Were you this slow when you were alive?"

"Were you this crazy when you were...?" Harry started, stopping when he ran out of ideas for words.

"I'll take that as a yes then. You do realise it's the middle of the day, right?" Faith checked. "As in, not gonna be dark for another five or six hours?"

"So?"

"So, you're nocturnal for a reason."

Harry looked down at the grass under his feet. "I woke up, I was bored, so I got up." He shrugged. When he looked up again, his fangs glinted. "And now I'm gonna kill you!"

As he sprang for Faith, she casually put her stake back in her jacket pocket. The breaking sunlight that had glinted off of his extra-long teeth was soon bright enough to start his clothes smouldering. He didn't seem to realise.

Side-stepping to avoid the flames, Faith watched as within seconds he burned away to nothing, just his fading agonised howl left behind.

"Crazy-ass fricken vamps." Faith muttered to herself.

"What did you do to my son? You killed my son?"

Aw crap, the lady was back on her feet and coming over for another round.

"I didn't kill him! I didn't touch him, you saw that." Faith yelled.

"I saw you set him on fire!" The fruit loop yelled back, her voice scratchy.

"You what?"

Faith's sharp eyes caught someone coming out of a maintenance shed a hundred yards or so away.

_Great! Time to adios._

"Yo, bitch, it's been fun, but…" Faith gestured over her shoulder. "Oh and I'm," she looked at the disturbed earth of kid's last resting place, feeling guilt she didn't deserve. "I'm… sorry for you loss." She added with as much sincerity as she could muster, before taking off over the rolling green lawns in the direction of the gate.

_What the hell was wrong with her today! _

**000**

"Alright Andrew?" Craig for once didn't sneak in, but walked boldly up and sat at the kitchen table next to the blonde.

Andrew jumped a little at the loud unexpected greeting. "Uh yeah I guess." He couldn't quite meet the English boy's eyes, but he smiled warmly. Craig had been singling him out all week. He liked the attention, but it was weird. "How come you're not with the others?" He asked, remembering why he had some peace and quiet for once.

Craig shrugged. "I was feeling rough. I thought it'd be better if I stayed home case I'm getting a cold; don't want to spread it around."

He looked over Andrew's shoulder as he spoke at the door to Willow's magic room. The door that was kept locked ever since the witch had caught Rajiv sniffing about in there. Stupid idiot had really made things harder for him.

"Well if you're not feeling well I can make you some soup?" Andrew offered, happy for a real reason to fuss over the new boy. He stood from his chair to go to the stove.

"No, I'm not feeling that bad, you don't have to go to any trouble." Craig felt like a wanker for lying to him.

"It's not trouble. It's nearly lunch time anyway." Andrew gave him another smile and managed to look him in the eye this time. For a second anyway. Then the uncomfortable feeling came back and he dragged his gaze away and concentrated on making soup. "You probably just need a decent hot meal inside you. You never come inside with the others."

Craig tensed. "Not really interested in socializing with the boy's brigade." That was true enough.

"Oh," Andrew turned from dicing carrots, "I thought you were one of them."

Craig sneered. "One of them tossers, not bloody likely." Seeing Andrew glance his way again, he realised his mistake. "I mean, yeah, I'm all watcherly and that, but that's the only thing we have in common." He pulled one of the books Andrew had been pouring over closer to him and used it to change the subject. "Heinderman's Compendium of Northern Demon Species and Sub-species." He read. "You understand this stuff? I thought you were just the bob-a-job boy. No offence." He added quickly.

Andrew turned again, perplexed. "Bob-a-huh?" Okay this had to get straightened out. Craig seemed like a nice guy, but Andrew really wasn't up for getting into anything with one of the watchers. He could just imagine everyone's reaction to that! He didn't have time anyway. What with cooking, cleaning, looking after Goorzah, helping Xander and Mr. Giles and doing his own part in the constant research that went on at Sunset Camp.

"Look, uh, I don't know quite what that means, but I think you've got the wrong idea about me, I'm not really Mr. Sextastic Man or anything… it's just, look Craig, I like you and I'm really flattered, and you have really nice eyes that kind of remind me of, uh, Bond," the blonde disappeared into a dreamy place for a few seconds before he kept on talking. "Uh Dalton, not Connery, and you get on great with Goorzie, but I've had a boyfriend before, sort of, and well…"

_Jonathan, spread out and bleeding on the seal of Danzalthar_ made a mental appearance.

Blinking Andrew continued. "– it ended pretty badly."

Andrew had made his little speech with his eyes on the parsnip in his hand, except for a brief look into Craig's dark hazel eyes as he mentioned them. By the time he'd finished talking he wanted to bolt out the back door, but his water was boiling and it was time to put the vegetables in.

Craig cleared his throat but Andrew didn't turn around. "Bob-a-job was something the scouts used to do when my old man was a boy. You'd go do a job for someone; ie. Mow their lawn, and they'd give you a bob, which was like five pee or something. I was just referring to you doing all the chores around here, nothing else." He tried to keep any amusement out if his voice.

"Oh, yeah I knew that." Andrew wondered if he could fake a convincing swoon to get out of the hole he had just dug for himself. If he fell just right he could probably knock himself out for a couple of weeks.

Craig grinned at the blonde's back fully aware of the discomfort he must be feeling. Nice eyes, huh? That didn't sound quite as not interested as Andrew kept making out. He said nothing though. "As you're being kind enough to make me lunch, why don't you tell me what you were looking for in this book and I'll have a go - me being a Watcher trainee and that." He chuckled under his breath.

"Um, okay." Andrew thought about what he knew. "Kennedy and the girls uncovered a nest of Meluthian Hedray's the other week. They're not too bright, mostly like just big dumb lizards, think Godzukki." _Not as cute, though_, Andrew thought, _but close enough_. "However, they have a sentient cousin called Sekopiluthian Hedray which is mostly like… Godzilla - with a _big_ brain!" He stressed, stretching his hands apart to show just how big he meant. "From what I've researched so far where you find one, you normally find the other. I'm just trying to see if I can get a list of nesting habits and feeding patterns or what they might be after; in case the girls come across any. Everyone else is so busy focusing on Faith and you guys, I figured I could do this bit."

Craig started flicking through the big book. It was brand new, he might have even been the first person to open it, but the knowledge it held went back centuries and so the printer had used an old fashioned type to reflect that. Looking from the squirley words to Andrew, he asked: "Sekpfullun Headaches? Can you spell it for me?"

Andrew smiled again, feeling much more comfortable now they were discussing something he knew stuff about. "I already wrote it down." He motioned to the note-book on the table.

Craig smiled back, grabbing the pad and Andrew turned back to the soup.

**000**

Buffy pulled her sunglasses down her nose to get a clearer look at Peter and Rajiv as they wrassled on the lawn of the church. The more annoying of the two had the young Asian in a head-lock and was trying to run him into the wall. She pushed her glasses up again, dismissing them. What did she care if they knocked each other out?

Turning her head she saw Naomi and the little one talking earnestly with Giles about…, she tuned her hearing in that direction ignoring the grunts and shouts coming from the fighting pair, oh what a surprise, talking about Hellmouths.

Buffy lounged on the bench by the church gate and studied Naomi from behind her dark glasses. She was tall, taller than Buffy anyhow and wearing casual blue jeans, but somehow her legs still seemed to go on for ever. Buffy followed them up to her ass; which was when she freaked and looked away.

'_I did not just check her out.' _Buffy looked down at the ground, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. '_God! Thanks a lot Faith. Turn me into a lesbian and then leave me to fend for myself!' _

This was okay, she was over-reacting, that was all. So what if she could admit Naomi was attractive. It didn't mean she wanted her. She thought Willow was attractive, but she didn't want in her pants.

She looked over at Naomi once again. She was alone with…Anthony? Giles was trying to bring some kind of order to Peter and Rajiv. _Good luck. _He'd been fighting that losing battle all week. Naomi's long, silky, white-gold hair hung loose down her back, catching the sun whenever she moved and creating a shimmery effect.

That was what it was! Buffy wasn't attracted to the young female would-be Watcher; she was just attracted to her hair.

The Slayer lifted a hand to her own tied back locks. She hadn't even had it cut since L.A. She'd gone to a salon with Willow and Dawn at their insistence, but all she'd gotten was a trim. Her hair was almost as dark as it had been when she was dead! Why hadn't she thought about getting it done before Faith was due home? '_Guess deep down I knew she wouldn't be coming home.'_ Had she really known that, though? Or was she just trying to make herself feel better.

There were only two days left until the parole officer was coming to town and so far Faith hadn't tried to contact her and she hadn't just shown up like Giles seemed to think she would. Buffy was prepared to believe that Faith really had run away for good this time. She wasn't going to fool herself that Faith gave a shit anymore.

So why was she still insisting on the full scale search?

It was for Faith's sake, not her own. The other Slayer couldn't afford to buck her parole conditions. If she wasn't here in a few days then she would officially be on the run for real and Buffy didn't want to see all of Faith's hard work come to nothing.

With a deep sigh Buffy pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and hit a speed dial button. While she waited for the other end to be picked up, she watched Naomi's lissom form stretch out on the church steps.

There was a click. "Hi. It's me. Did you look into the rapist story?"

She listened to Angel's answer. A tiny frown appeared as she realised nothing had come from the article she'd found.

"So the car was just dumped and you have no idea where she went after that?"

Across the church yard Naomi was resting on her elbows, seemingly intent on the tussle still going on between Peter and Rajiv. Buffy let her eyes flick up and down the younger woman's body as she listened to Angel tell her stuff she already knew.

"So have you searched all of Utah? Don't tell me it's impossible, I know the kind of resources you have there, Angel." Buffy huffed. "Can't you use some kind of infra-red beam to locate her body heat?"

Buffy subconsciously wet her lips as Naomi pulled her t-shirt up to catch the sun on her flat stomach. '_Damn, all this thinking about Faith is turning me into her. I can totally imagine licking ice-cream off of that tummy.' _

A hand landed softly on her shoulder and Buffy jumped, her phone left her hand, flew into the air and was caught by a large manly hand above her head. Looking up she realised it was Reece who had disturbed her.

"Do you mind? I'm on an important call." She snapped, standing up and holding out a hand for her cell.

"Then why throw it at me, darling?" He handed it back to her.

She turned her back on him, but before she could get the phone fully to her ear, Reece whispered into it. "I know Nai's fit, sweetheart, but she's only got eyes for Rayne, not that the poof has any clue." She could sense him grinning. "You'd be breaking your precious rogue's heart for nothing."

_What? I…What?_ She glared at his back as the tall, snobby watcher trainee walked away. _What the hell does that mean? She has a weather fixation? And just what is it he thinks he knows about Faith and I? And what's with the 'rogue'?_

It wasn't the first time Buffy had heard one of their guests call Faith 'rogue' and it pissed her off. That was done and in the past. Faith wasn't rogue anymore, she was just missing.

Buffy continued to glare at Reece's back as he strolled right up to Peter and Rajiv and stopped their silliness with a single word. It was only then that she became aware of the tinny little Angel voice shouting into her ear.

"Sorry. One of the new watcher jerks is just begging for a full demonstration on Slayer strength…No he's just an idiot…" Her tone became more excited as Angel finally told her something useful. "And your man in the field is sure it's her? That's the biggest lead yet Angel!"

She listened to her ex for a few more minutes, her mood way better than five minutes ago. Just as she was about to hang up she asked in a rush: "Uh, Angel. You don't suppose I could get a copy of the surveillance photos, do you?"

**000**

For three hours they had been poring over the old and new demon books. Between the two of them they had finished off the whole big bowl of soup and were now snacking on Willow's homemade cookies as they passed volume's back and forth and wrote notes on post-its to fix inside the books.

"Says here: "The Sekopiluthian Hedray organised an army of their lesser brethren: the Meluthian Hedray, to march upon the city of Augustine in 1360. Not a soul was left alive as the demons ravaged the city and took control of the Hellmouth." Craig finished reading his passage and made another note on a yellow post it.

Andrew finished chewing his cookie. "I knew they weren't just fluffy little lizards. Not that lizards are ever fluffy, I guess, but I knew there was more to it." He let his finger scroll down the page in his own text. Finding what he wanted he started to read. "A Sek can devour one hundred human bodies in a single day. It stores the fat in its tail and can then live quite actively for ten to fifteen days with out feeding again." He closed the book with a snap.

"So if you don't get eaten in the first one hundred, you've got up to fifteen days to make yourself scarce before the bugger needs to eat again. You can't say the geezer ain't sporting." Craig chuckled.

Andrew shrugged. "All I know is that we don't need something like that around here. There are less than one hundred people living in town. One Sekopiluthian could wipe out Boudenver and still have room left for Pleasant Creek."

Craig leaned back in his chair, lifting his arms high overhead to stretch them out. "Do you really think it would bother with some place as small as this?"

Andrew looked at him. "They're attracted to the Hellmouth. You read it! It's where they nest!" He was getting quite agitated now.

The English boy leaned over to put a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down mate. You guys do this sort of thing all the time don't you? It'll be no sweat. And you found all this out. You'll be the hero, mate. Andy saves the day!" He squeezed the shoulder under his fingers and gave Andrew a broad smile.

Andrew blushed. "I'm not really a hero, I just seem to have a knack for staying alive, and anyway you helped."

"Nah it was all you. I just looked where you told me to look." Realising he'd been leaning at an awkward angle to hold on to Andrew's shoulder for way too long to be natural, Craig let go and put his hand, palm down, on the table top. He didn't break eye contact though. "You're pretty good at all this. How come you don't get to go out and play with the others?"

The words _I used to be a super-villain _died on his tongue. "I-ah-I…" Andrew wanted to look away, but there really was something about Craig's eyes that just held him in one place. He blinked, but when his eyes were open again, Craig was still smiling at him, leaning forward just slightly, hazelnut eyes twinkling. "I grew up in Sunnydale." Andrew explained instead. "If you don't understand this stuff, you normally end up being eaten by it."

Craig nodded, happy with that answer. "I never really got into it to be honest. Mum always had other stuff she needed me to do."

"You never got into it?" Andrew looked up, bemused. "I thought all of you came over from the Watchers Academy. Wasn't it, like, mandatory to learn about demons?"

Craig kicked himself. He kept slipping up around these people! He was sure he was usually a lot smoother than this. "Uh, Well yeah, 'course, but there was different, you know, departments and wotnot. I was more into my magic studies than the demon side." He lied, even though it was sort of the truth.

"Oh yeah, I guess that makes sense." Andrew had no reason not to believe him. Mr Giles could do some magic, which he must have learnt at the Academy. "So are you any good?"

Craig grinned. "Would you like me to pull a bunch of flowers out of a hat for you?"

Andrew just blushed at him and it might have become uncomfortable, but before it could Willow and Kennedy came through the back door

Craig looked away from Andrew in dismay, forgetting the exciting significance of his new friend's non-answer. He again stared over Andrew's head at Willow's locked magic room. Bugger. He'd been having so much fun just hanging out with Andrew that he'd forgotten to find a way to sneak in…_again_.

Craig got up from his chair and made for the outside. Andrew's voice stopped him.

"Aren't you going to help me explain the Sekopiluthian stuff we just found out?"

"Uh no. You know it better than me anyway. I need to get some air." Craig didn't want to loiter in the house now people were beginning to arrive home. He fell back on his earlier excuse as he left. "Feeling a bit stuffy."

As he left he heard both Willow and her girlfriend tell Andrew that they had more important things to worry about – like werewolves. Werewolves sounded cool. Yet another field trip he didn't dare go on. Still he'd be too busy tonight trying to jimmy open the window to the Magic room to worry about big hairy mutts.

**000**

"Tomorrow, Andrew." Willow focused on her dinner again. Her day at the lake had left her ravenous.

"It could be a big threat. The stuff we read today sounds really creepy." Andrew whined from further up the table. He wished Craig was there to back him up, but once again he hadn't showed for dinner.

The rest of the watcher trainees were there, but Andrew didn't really like any of them, except Naomi, she was okay.

"Andrew stop whining." Kennedy snapped as she buttered a soft roll for Willow. "Tonight and the next two nights we're doing werewolves. Werewolves come first and then after the full moon is done for this month we can take a look at what you found, okay Andrew?"

He nodded. It wasn't like disagreeing would get him anywhere.

"So who is going tonight?" Giles asked. "I don't want any of the students to go unless they have a Slayer partner. Although I'm sure everything will go smoothly this time, it's better to be safe than sorry."

Kennedy looked around the table counting the watcher trainees. "Where's Whatisname?"

Naomi tried to finish her mouthful as quickly as she could in order to come up with an excuse for her friend, but Andrew was already speaking.

"Craig wasn't feeling very well this afternoon; I think he's gone back to the boy's dorm. He'll probably be better off in bed this evening, I think." Andrew told Giles solemnly

"I bet you do. Ow!" Peter's smirk was quickly replaced by a glare at the person opposite him. "You frigging bitch, you kicked me!"

"I have no idea what you are talking about Pete." Naomi flashed him a charming smile and popped another forkful into her mouth.

"Hey!" Buffy pointed her knife at Peter. "If I _ever_ hear you talk to any of the women in this house like that again; I'll kick you. Got it?"

"Ahh, ain't lust grand." Reece drawled, causing Rajiv to spit up some potatoes.

He muttered a "sorry" in between giggles.

Giles was looking very displeased. In fact most of the people in the kitchen were looking very displeased, but it was Giles that spoke. "Okay boys why don't you go and get yourselves ready and try to-uh- calm down a bit. Werewolves, it would seem, are attracted to over-active hormones and I'd hate to see any of you eaten," he finished dryly. Standing, he gave his thanks to Andrew for the meal and left to ready himself for the evening's adventure.

Reece, Peter and Rajiv left via the back door. Rajiv was still giggling to himself. Anthony brought up the rear looking sorrowful.

Naomi stood up too. "I am sorry about them. They're not usually quite this bad." She considered her words and added. "Actually Peter is, but the others are normally tolerable." She gave Buffy a slightly bemused look before excusing herself.

When none of the new arrivals were left in the kitchen Dawn turned to Buffy and asked.

"What was Reece talking about? Ain't lust grand?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Nothing important. Ready for the off in thirty minutes, Kennedy?" She left without waiting for an answer.

"Guess we know who's taking charge tonight." Kennedy wasn't sure whether to be pleased or pissed. True she didn't want to be running the werewolf show, but she was getting a little fed up of the way Buffy just kept taking over the last few days too.

Xander looked up from his dessert. "She's just…"

Kennedy interrupted him impatiently. "Blowing off steam, I know."

"I've never known one chick have so much steam." Rona chuckled as she dug out the last of her yoghurt.

**000**

"Where the hell is Rayne now?" Reece demanded, his temper flaring. Mr Giles had told him to have everyone ready by nine and again the little twerp had disappeared.

"Who cares?" Peter pulled on a jacket and lit a cigarette. "As long as he en't here."

Rajiv finished his rushed rolling of something illegal and likely toxic and stuck it in his pocket for later. "He's probably scared of the werewolves. Can't say I'm too happy about meeting any either."

"We're not going to find any bloody werewolves." Peter scoffed. "Everyone knows they're well rare. We've got more chance of meeting up with a bloody fairy. Ain't that right, Miley?" He turned and gave the smallest boy a slap on the back of the head.

Anthony grimaced and left ahead of the other Watcher trainees.

Or at least tried to.

Something caught his ankle and he fell face first into the damp grass with a small scream.

**000**

Craig crept around the side of the house in the shadows, the sun had dropped twenty minutes ago and apart from a line of orange light over the horizon, the sky above Sunset camp was a swirly mass of navy and indigo.

He knew the patrol group would be leaving any minute and he wanted to be away from the boy's dorm and the garage so he wouldn't risk being spotted.

Willow's magic room was at the back of the kitchen and the window faced to the side of the house. By hiding in the big rhododendron that grew beneath the window, he could watch the truck leave without it passing anywhere near him, and then get through the window as soon as all was quiet.

He knew by nightly observation that the four people left in the house: Andrew, Dawn, Xander and one of the new slayers, a different girl every night from what Craig could tell, would all park themselves in front of the telly with enough munchies to last the evening.

So providing he could get in and out of the window without smashing anything, he was golden.

A scream came from the back of the house as Craig crouched behind the large bush, nibbling on a slice of bread he'd stashed in his pocket earlier. Those bastards were going to kill Milestone one of these days, but he didn't have enough nervous energy to worry about that an' all.

**000**

The Watcher felt eyes on him as he came down the front stairs, right before someone said: "Giles!"

He looked up from the silver sword he was inspecting for nicks. "Yes Kennedy?"

"Wrench monkey is coming Monday morning." Kennedy having safely delivered the information she was supposed to, went back to watching the TV. while she waited for everyone to be ready.

"What monkey?" Giles asked, brow creased. He looked at Goorzah, who was curled up on Andrew's lap, wondering if this was something to do with her. Although he couldn't think for one moment why he would need to be informed.

"Plumber, Giles." Kennedy clarified with a chuckle. "For the shower block. When he's done Xander said he can get the floor down and start tiling the walls."

"What tiles is he using?" It was Vi's turn for the home patrol and she was making the most of it by sprawling on the couch next to Andrew and munching on popcorn. Every now and then she'd flick a kernel to Goorzah.

"The usual ceramic, I assume." Giles told her.

"I meant what colour. I think as one of the people who are…is…uh, going to be using it, I should get a vote."

"I suppose that would be alright." Giles replied easily, his eyes twinkling. "What colour do you vote for?"

"Um…I don't know." Vi sat back to think about it.

Giles grinned to himself and pretended to be absorbed in the vile sitcom the children were watching. He knew there was already a large stack of plain white tiles waiting in the shower block for Xander to affix, but it didn't hurt to keep the slayers amused with trivia such as this. He'd learnt that lesson with Buffy.

"Well while you're deciding that," said Dawn from the other armchair, "I know exactly what colours I want my bedroom. I'd like it purple and lilac."

"Isn't that the same thing?" Kennedy turned her head enough to see Dawn.

"I want the walls to be lilac and the woodwork and curtains and whatever to be darker." Dawn explained cheerfully, picturing it already done in her mind.

"How dark though? There's lots of different shades of purple." Vi suddenly began choking on popcorn. She pointed to something on top of the TV.

Giles and everyone else were too preoccupied with staring to comment at first.

"We weren't asking for a colour chart guys." Andrew said eventually as he tried to sink as far back into the couch cushions as he could.

The dozen or so Pixies that had suddenly popped into view stared back at them uneasily.

**000**

The youngest Watcher-cadet, Anthony Milestone, gave another girlish scream as he was lifted into the air and marched away. It wasn't so much that he was being kidnapped that bothered him; he had read enough Watcher diaries to know that was par for the course. No, it was more that whatever was doing the kidnapping was carrying him only six inches from the ground. Every now and then a longer strand of grass than most would tickle his nose irritating his Godforsaken hay fever. This was most unseemly. He tried to reach into his trouser pocket for his handkerchief, but something slapped his hand away.

"Naw reechin' fer yow aarms!"

The accent he was addressed with was oddly familiar to Anthony, but the words made no sense.

"Um, excuse me," he tried, as he was easily carried further away from the dormitory. "I think there may have been some misunderstanding. If you would be so kind as to put me down I'm sure we can sort this out in no time."

"Shaat aap, dundlehead biggaar." The alien voice snapped at him.

Anthony may not have understood the words, but the meaning was clear. The young man fell silent and tipped his head as far back as possible to avoid the damp lawn.

**000**

"So where was she?" Willow asked as she went through her drawer to find a dark sweater to cover her bright t-shirt.

Buffy was leaning on the door-frame to Willow and Kennedy's room. She was already dressed head to toe in black. "A motel in Nebraska."

"Nebraska? Why?" Xander was sitting at the dresser. "I mean… why?"

Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. That's where Angel's guy snapped her. She had a motorcycle."

"A motorcycle?" Xander bounced on the little stool a little as her grew more excited. "What kind? Do you think it's hers? Do you think she'd let me ride it? How could she afford a bike though?" He frowned again.

Buffy's shoulders rose and fell in another shrug.

"Well if it isn't hers then that means she stole it right?" Checked Willow.

"How do I know?" Buffy shook her head irritably. "All I know is that she was spotted at a garage with a red and black motorcycle and then she spent the evening drinking in the bar across the street with another woman."

"So if Angel's guy knew that Faith was in this motel all night, why didn't he get down there and pick her up?" Xander asked. "Doesn't he have, like, a helicopter fleet now?"

"He did." Buffy defended her ex. "He even went personally, but by the time he got there she was gone."

"He must have a pretty slow helicopter." Xander snarked, he rubbed his palms on his jeans, his own frustration at the situation showing itself.

Two days left. The thought kept coming back to Buffy with more urgency every time. Only one day really now, one full day anyway. She tried again to forget about it as she broke the even worse news.

"According to surveillance guy she was only there long enough to get hammered." Buffy explained. "Once she couldn't drink anymore she left." She paused a second. "With the woman."

Xander and Willow stayed silent, not sure what to say.

A knock at the window finally broke the uneasy quiet.

Going over, Willow peered out into the darkening evening. "Huh?" She opened the window to get a better look. "Oh hello. Would you like to come in?"

**000**

Faith prowled the streets looking for somewhere to crash.

A motel was out of the question, she barely had enough money left to buy a Pretzel. She really hadn't budgeted all that well, or at all really, come to think of it. She'd had good intentions, but then she'd played that song before and it never really worked out.

She didn't want to go to a shelter. She'd spent enough time as a kid catching z's all around South Boston's finest accommodations for the home-challenged. And it wasn't just the bitter memories and the foul smells that kept her away either, if people were still looking for her, those would be the types of places they'd be sniffing around.

She would have tried to pick up another random stranger for free drinks and a free bed, and they would be for free too – no services rendered, but after the last chick she'd targeted had turned out to be a vampire she just couldn't be bothered. She was too low to slay for pleasure and too beat to slay for work; in other words: a miserable wreck.

The days were all rolling into one and she was surprised by the LCD display on the side of the office block in the middle distance telling her it was Saturday already. Scrubbing a hand through her dirty hair she scuffed her boots on the sidewalk. Yeah that news improved her mood no end. She coulda sworn it was only Friday. What day had she been released again?

The knowledge that time was passing even faster than she thought just made her all the wearier. She cut a left between two tall buildings and walked away from the main streets full of crowds. She wasn't going to find a safe place to sleep in the midst of all the fancy shops and classy restaurants that was for sure.

Twenty-five minutes of trudging later she hit pay dirt. She'd left the higher class business district behind and was now making her way along a street lined by stores, most of them empty, topped by several stories of low rent apartments.

She was beginning to lose the light so Faith wasted no time in picking a nameless store front and checking out the inside through a window free from Special Offer posters and discount promises. It was bare save for a chair sat in the middle of the floor and half a dozen broken down cardboard boxes.

It was perfect.

Making a note of the number painted over the door and the store's position on the street Faith carried on walking until she was level with the building's service alley and ducked in.

Two minutes and a jump over a fence later Faith was standing at the employee's entrance to the empty shop. Without looking around at the yard, because that would imply to anyone looking out of their apartment window's that she was doing something she shouldn't; she turned the doorknob and leant her shoulder against it. It opened even easier than she expected because it hadn't been locked in the first place.

That meant that someone had beaten her to the punch; wouldn't happen again though. She carefully stepped through the door and pushed it closed behind her as she wondered who or what her company might be if they were still here.

If it was kids, Faith was pretty sure she could come to a win-win situation. She'd just show them a little of her strength and then tell them to keep the noise down while she got a couple of hours of shut-eye. If they weren't very polite or decided they weren't in the mood for guests, she'd toss them out on they're asses and they could come back when she cleared out.

If it wasn't kids then she'd just have to gather the energy for one more slay after all.

Faith was stepping confidently but quietly across a tiny kitchen cubicle. There were coffee granules and an Olympic sign made of mug rings on the counter and she wondered if the electricity and water were still on. A wash would be good. A cup of coffee would be better, but Faith couldn't actually see the source of the spilled granules or a kettle for that matter.

The door she went through on leaving the kitchenette lead to a narrow corridor with a closed door at the far end and an open one just a few feet in front of her on the left. It was very dark in the corridor, but Faith didn't even bother trying to find a light switch. Even if the electricity was on she didn't want to risk drawing attention to herself from anyone outside.

She started to inch towards the open door, but then sighing impatiently, she gave up.

"Okay I'm too damn tired to play cat and mouse with you. If there's someone here come on out so we can be introduced."

A pair of yellow eyes appeared in the darkness of the open doorway.

Faith nodded to herself. "Not kids then."

_Guess one vamp isn't gonna cut into nap time too much._ _Better not make me hungry though; can't afford to eat again until I hit the road outta here tomorrow._ Faith thought as she reached for the stake tucked inside her jacket.

"Come on then, let's get this…" Faith's voice trailed off when she noticed the second and third pairs of malevolent glowing eyes. Her body shifted into a tighter stance of defence and she sneered. "Okay so this is gonna be a nice little bedtime work out. It'll beat the hell out of doing a thousand crunches on a cold stone floor."

There was a vicious snarl behind her and before she could even turn her head, a fourth vampire attacked from the kitchen.

_To be continued..._


End file.
